How the Mighty Have Fallen
by Eyes like Dawn
Summary: The Dark Curse has been broken and Peter Pan has been defeated. The world is set right and everyone has returned to the Enchanted Land. A magic-less Regina is sentenced to a life of exile for her crimes. When a certain outlaw comes across the exiled Regina will things change, or is her heart too black? Will a roguish archer be drawn to an evil queen? Pre-season 3.
1. Banished

_A/N: This story is pre-season 3, so no WW, but with Robin Hood still involved since he was in season 2, if only for a moment. I've only dabbled in writing our favorite evil queen and not really our dashing archer so if it sucks, sorry. Other then that, enjoy!_

**~8~8~**

Home, was there any sweeter word?

Warm, golden sun cheerily doused the restored lands of the enchanted world with a brightness that hadn't been known or seen in decades. Tawny summer rays soaked into the emerald plumage of thick summer foliage along the trees and washed over the ripening fields of foods and flowers alike with a bracing glory as though to gild the world in light.

A cool breeze tempered the heat of the brilliant day and danced playfully through the leaves and stalks like mischievous sprites. No clouds scudded the sapphire sky, leaving the firmament an endless ocean of cyan. Birds sang their glee, people cheered their jubilation, and all the world seemed wondrous and right. Nothing appeared out of place and even the weather displayed such.

In the cities and sprawling fiefdoms the people mirrored the brightness of the summer's day. Banners and gaily decorated pennants of each realms color fluttered from every spire of every restored castle to every hovel in every bucolic shire.

Livery of servants and guards snapped crisply in the breeze and all donned their best in momentous occasion of the day.

Happiness and joy reigned over all the enchanted realms like a benevolent ruler of the soul. After all the time caught in magic's and bitter visions of vengeful witches; the spells, the curses, were all finally broken once and for all! The dark curse had been defeated by the warrior and princess Emma, along with the curse Peter Pan would have enacted if he had not stopped him in time. The realms were once more restored and all the memories of everyone were put back into place.

The rightful rulers were all where they were supposed to be. Snow White and her prince Charming once more sat on the throne in the southern lands, their daughter Emma was engaged to be wed to the pirate Hook and Henry seemed over the moon about the engagement. Cinderella and Thomas governed their prosperous country in the northern world, along with Aurora and Philip who ruled by the sea, happily co-ruling the kingdoms in love and friendship. Rumpelstiltsktsin and his darling Belle had found their happy ending snuggled up in the Dark Castle far away from those who would have cast bitter eyes upon them.

Yes, everyone was gladdened, their dreams realized, their lives once more untied without strife and turmoil.

Regina nearly gagged at the thought.

A dire, yet noble frown of scarlet marked Regina's pale face as she marched decorously down the long cream colored nave that that once been part of her citadel. Long, thin windows hewn high into the stone allowed slants of golden light to seep in and dapple the white runners and marble floor. Dust motes spiraled in their tumble through the rays and brought a small shine to Regina's face as she passed each oblique shot of sun.

As she strode regally down the sunny corridor, memories of the castle began to spot her vision like that spears of light. She had walked the halls many a time, fuming, whilst she had expelled and hunted the hated Snow. Upon her husbands murder she had taken over the castle and had ruled until Snow White and her ilk had grappled the kingdom back from her clutches long before the curse was a glint in her eye.

In fact, the last time she had even stood in the hall was when she had vowed to destroy Snow and her love's happiness on their wedding day.

A small smirk twitched upon her ruby lips with the last memory as the hall ended and she walked into the court of Queen Snow and King James. Irony painted a grandiose, poetic picture in her mind, nearly producing a laugh from her lips. How times had changed, yet stayed so the same.

Head held imperiously high the former queen looked to neither side, ignoring the hateful glares of the people that gathered in the exquisite court. Her flowing black, lacy gown rustled about her legs and arms with each studied stride freely taken. Hands clasped before her she seemed still the queen that she was no longer. Her high heeled, black shoes clicked sharply on the white marble with every measured step as she neared the dais and the royals that had taken their rightful place.

In the center of the dais, much like their wedding day, stood Snow on the left and James on the right. A soft frown that matched her pitying eyes lined Snows alabaster visage indelibly creating a singular flaw of turmoil. Her face, molded with the pain of having to dole out unpleasant dealings, was a stark contrast to James scowl and narrowed pupils gleaming with erroneous suspicion.

Endowed with mistrust, his right hand sat upon the golden pommel of his sword, his fingers tapping at the hilt nervously. He was always on the alert for any trick where Regina was involved. To him she was a hungry, prowling wolf and that was a shepherds first most foe.

To James side stood Rumpelstiltsktsin in all his renewed beastliness. His skin had returned to the scaled, golden flecked flesh of old. Eyes black as midnight stared at her with an equal amount of cunning and danger. Dressed in his gaudy brown and gold he had been fond of before the curse attired his weedy body. Belle, his one and only love, hooked a slender arm about his, holding him lovingly, day by day taming the beast that he was.

Though Belle could have well been the most understanding there, there was no mercy for Regina in her azure pools. Regina had hurt them both nearly beyond repair. She had cloven them away on several different occasions making the love in their hearts like knives twisting into them until they were finally one now and forever. Still, though they were one, wounds needed time to heal.

Baelfire had fallen in Neverland and neither were much disposed to be dealing with her with mercy or pernicious anger at the moment, part of which Regina blessed. If the imp had not been grieving he certainly would have had her slapped in irons faster than what had already been the case. Given what she had done to him and 'his Belle' he might have killed her himself.

Roving her eyes over in Snow's direction the queen peered at the rest of the royal family on her nemesis side. Emma, clad in leather warriors garb glared at her, whilst her husband to be, Killian 'Hook' Jones stood by her side in his signature black leather sea coat. Handsome face curved into a frown, he glared mistrustfully at the daughter of his one time ally.

In front of them both, the only one she wished to see, Henry, stared at her with the one thing he could - love.

The sharp frown nearly melted from Regina's lips as she caught glance of her son. Her motherly instinct to run to him crowed in her heart nearly bursting like a thousand fireworks all set ablaze at once. Only the firmest sense of decorum and pride stopped her from running to him and sweeping him up in a hug.

Embracing the coldness of her evil, she refused the action to her limbs. She had to remember, to see him was not why she was there. In fact, she was there for no gladness. While all the rest of the peoples of the realms rejoiced, hers was a day of judgement and misery.

Forcing her eyes away from her son, the evil queen strafed her vision back to the pair in the center. Ice prickled in her gaze like a hard fronds of frost descending over the world. Stone set her visage in an never shifting mask of hardness. Tilting her chin a bit higher she studied them both as though she were on the dais and not they.

"Regina," Snow began, speaking her name with a soft sigh, a hint of sadness railing her gentle timbre. For all her banditry and cleverness she had always been a gentle soul beneath.

Even with the woman who had tried to ruin her life at her mercy she did not boast the fact or try to seem the omnipotent bearer of fate. Kindness shimmered in her eyes, almost making the queen sick. How could one person be so wholehearted… _good_.

"Save the monologue, Snow I know why I am here." The witch's eyes hardened to umber orbs of stone. A sneer wrenched her ruby mouth as she scanned them all again with a hateful glare. "I don't need the list read or the reasons or the niceties to soften this cut. Get on with it."

A firm all suffering sigh fell from James mouth. His lips quirked into a displeased frown that betrayed he did not totally approve what they had decided but had conceded their recourse the best option. "We are thankful that you helped us defeat Pan and saved the town from his henchmen. You gave your all, your powers to be stop his curse and take us back home."

"But a handful of good deeds doesn't paint over the whole picture, correct?" she oozed sardonically, her words dripping with disgusted bile.

Yes Peter Pan had been defeated but the cost had been a loss of her own powers against the Dark One's father. Has she any magic she would have laughed at the judgments, but alas hers had never been a fair fate. She was at their mercy now with nothing in her arsenal but a handful of good deeds and then only for the sake of her son, not because she was repentant.

Fingers curled about James arm, Snow's frown deepened. "Your crimes cannot be overlooked. You have done… so much wrong Regina. The hundreds, thousands, you've slaughtered. Do you not remember the entire villages you wiped out? The hearts you took? The pain you caused everyone?" her words softened into silence. She still blamed herself for some of that.

"And for that," James picked up again where his wife's pain left off, his voice stern and regal for a shepherd boy, "You are banished from the kingdoms. Both ours and those that have allied with us. You may not show your face in our cities, our primary villages, even the outlying villages. If you do and are captured you will spend the rest of your life in a cell in a place of Rumpelstiltsktsin's choosing where no one will be able to find you ever again." Shoulders square and firm, he spoke the dire sentence like the king he had become.

Staring them all defiantly in the eye, Regina fought back an outward sign of distress. She breathed evenly, suppressing her anger from over boiling and berating them. Bred and schooled in the noble ways she hid her true feelings deep in the tunnels of her black heart. "And Henry?" she dared, her voice hard fought to be calm and indifferent to her punishment.

In a way, she had known her sentence would be something of that nature. Ever since the curse had been lifted she had surmised if death was not the recourse exile would be. For all she had done she was prepared to meet her price. Her only concern that really clamped to her heart was her son. What would they do in that regard if she was exiled?

Snow sighed woefully, a tell tale sigh that sent Regina's heart into fluttering spasms. What color the witch had in her face fled, leaving her as pale as a long dead specter. Narrowed eyes searched them all with an ominous disbelief. They couldn't have decided… not forever….

"I'm sorry Regina. I know this is hard but we've decided that you may never-"

"You can see him four times a year," Emma interpreted her mother quickly, her voice holding the evidence of a spur of the moment decision.

All eyes turned to the warrior princess, shock and deliberation or outrage dancing in their eyes. She had just won full custody, by deed alone, over her son. Would she fritter that away at a whim? Would she dare dance the line of mothers with Regina and open a door for the clever witch to scheme some way to reclaim Henry?

Ignoring them, Emma faced the witch as she had always, unafraid and head on. Mouth a thin pink line, she addressed the convicted witch solely. Cool evenness laced her voice as though talking to someone about not skipping their bail. "Henry loves you and you love him. You deserved at least to see him," she explained and then sighed as though bracing in her decision. "So once every season you may see Henry, winter, spring, summer, and fall. And, when he's older, if he can manage to track you down he can see you whenever he wants."

Shock crackled through Regina like a wave of lightening crawling over her skin. In the instant she had guessed her sentence never to see Henry she had been prepared to fight, to beg, to pleaded, to threaten at them, to rail until the stones cracked to her voice. But she had been granted a boon. She did not expect such mercy, and from all people Emma Swan.

Indifference gnawed at her to accept the gracious offer with pride but she could not. Tilting her head down a fraction the haughty former queen dipped a deferent bow to the warrior. "Thank you miss Swan."

"If that's all," Emma voice turned to ice again, reminding them both they were still polar opposites, "Say goodbye and leave Regina. Go away and never come back."

Swallowing hard, the witch looked from her son to the woman who had taken up her role as mother. A role fate and subsequently she herself had denied the warrior. Her lips curved into a distressed line of ruby. No longer did she appear the haughty queen but a deposed mother who would have her son shorn from her. "Can I at least talk to him in private?" her voice wavered faintly.

Emma nodded succinctly. "We thought of that." She turned her head to the other side of the dais. "Rumpelstiltskin, if you will."

"As the lady Swan commands," the fiend quipped, but his words were emotionless. Flourishing his dirty scaled talons through the air, he wove a tendril of purple magic through the court.

As though watching a fair performance, all eyes turned to the powers wielded by the restored Dark One. The sun slipping thorough the tall windows clashed with the damson powers he wielded, dark fighting light and turning the thick purple into a faded lilac. Sun spun dust motes fought with foggy lavender in an odd dance that coiled and snaked through the warm air in a sensual tangle of nature and magic.

Regina watched enraptured by the coiling display before she realized she was no longer watching sun beams play from inside the court but seeing the suns rays outside spilling through the trees and being toyed with by the magic's she had once wielded.

Once the task was complete, the magic disappeared like mists evaporated by the sun leaving her and the only other she cared for outside the cities edge.

Vapidly turning around, the woman looked upon her son for what would be the last time in a very long time. He still looked so much like the little boy she had raised in the land of Storybrooke, but he was slowly growing from that lad into a man.

Childhood still molded his face but the first hints of manhood were beginning to rear. His voice cracked now and again, youth and puberty vying for dominance. He was growing out of his clothes everyday and the way he ate at meals could have starved a family! One day when she turned around he would be a full grown man. And she wouldn't be there to watch it happen.

Through all the turmoil and strife in her life, that thought alone was enough to stun the dragon of her imperiousness and dredge forth her pain she had so long thrust away. Realization struck like a stone from a catapult into the walls of her cold heart. Agony shuddered through her broken walls like an arrow right through her chest. The pain vibrated to her very core, tearing down any strength she had left.

"Oh Henry," anguish bubbled through her soft words sundering the cold shell of queen.

Falling to her knees the woman wrapped her son in a hug. Her arms held him close, forcing her memory to scrawl the image of him forever in her brain. She inhaled deeply, clamoring to fill her mind banks with his scent. He stilled smelled a bit like their old house and the shampoo that came in a super hero bottle she always bought him. Part of her could not help but note he could have done for a haircut, and that all the more gave her misery, knowing her motherly instincts for him were all for naught.

Emma Swan would have to take care of those things now, and she found that even that brought a pang of sickness to her heart. How long had she taken for granted those little chores and errands with her son?

Wrapping his lanky arms about her neck the boy returned all the pain that she gave. Head on her shoulder he hugged her until he thought he might squeeze the life out of her. "Mom. I love you. I don't want you to go, but…." Inescapable pain crackled falteringly through his maturing voice.

"It's all for the best, Henry," Regina soothed as best she could through her grief. Since the beginning of the curses collapse she had had an inkling of what road her deeds would take her. Losing Henry was part of that. She had fought, by heaven she had fought valiantly to avoid such a fate but everything came with a price.

Slowly closing her eyes, the witch forced the brunt of her pain away. A singular tear trailed down her pallid face, the only outlet of her misery before him. She couldn't make their parting tougher than already was the case. Strength would see them through until they could be together again.

Desperately, Henry clutched her tighter and buried his face in her neck. "But what will you do? Where will you go?" His voice was muffled by lace and skin and the wracking pain of departure.

Never had they been away very long and even then she had magic. What would she do all by herself? Where would she head? Her castle had been demolished in the curse and no city would succor her. Even if she was allowed in the village's people would've shut their doors in her face.

"Henry you know me." Pulling away so that they were face to face Regina forced a sad smile. Pain watered her brown eyes with salty crystals but no other tears fell. "I'll be alright," she whispered lowly and brushed the growing hair from his face. The hard fought smile spread shallowly across her pale features. "What you should be more concerned is the adjustment to being a princling and trying not to get into so much mischief with… your father, Killian. You'll see. You don't have to worry about me. And I won't be away for long. We get to meet, remember. Once every season we'll meet in a special place."

The loss of the mother he had known all his life wrenched the boys face. Agony branded his eyes with pain that could come form no physical torment. Yet, he could see his mother was trying for him, trying to be strong. Could he not do the same?

Dabbing his eyes with the heel of his hand, the boy sniffed back his tears for her. "Where is this place?" he queried, his voice a bit stronger.

A mothers pride flared lugubriously inside the witch. How bold and brave he was to be strong for her. Maturity and strength was taking hold of him. Slowly he was growing up, eschewing tears for a stoic heart.

"A grove," Regina reveled gently in a whisper. "A tranquil grove two miles outside the city. Many don't know of its existence. Snow does so you may ask her of the location. At the start of every season we shall meet there, catch up all day just me and you."

Stoically, Henry nodded. Crystal tears brimmed on the rim of his eyes. "That… that'll be nice, mom. I'll count every day."

"I know you will, Sweetie." Her bottom lip quivered treacherously to display her grief. "Now go, back to the castle before they start worrying. And remember, no goodbye is forever, not where I'm concerned."

Slowly, as though drawn by some invisible rope, the boy began to step away. The summer breeze swept his shaggy hair, fanning the locks over his growing visage. Tears the growing man who was still a boy could no longer contain brooked down his eyes as he backed towards the stone bridge and to the castle. "I will remember. I will," he swore before running back to the alabaster palace.

Tears came then to the evil queen as he fled. Hot droplets of agony spilled down her pallid cheeks as she watched the silhouette of her son grow fainter and fainter into the shadow of the glorious palace. He was gone. Alive, but gone from her, her only reason to be a better woman, her only reason to love.

Backing away from kingdom, the queen shed her grief like a sudden summer storm, vicious and unrelenting. "Oh Henry," she sobbed his name forlornly before turning away and disappearing into the forest as she had always been - alone and outcast.

**~8~8~**

_A/N: I didn't think I would, but I do so love the Regina/Robin. I've booked my ticket for this ship. We'll see where this goes, eh?_

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**


	2. The Southern Wood

Warm rain spattered sporadically over the thick forest land of the Southern wood. The sky above was an ugly steel gray hue that churned and boiled with curmudgeonly black clouds that threatened a downpour. The wind snapped and hissed ominously through the trees, swatting the mightiest and largest of the forest denizens like spindly weeds and bending them to the airs surly will. Thunder rumbled ominously in the apex of the treacherous clouds like a stern father about to unleash a beating upon the filthy, unruly world.

Regina flinched as another jagged lash of brilliant ivory lightening cut perniciously across the canopied sky. Thunder drummed and growl high in the heavens with a beastly, inclement anger as though to scold the arching brilliance. Turning her dirtied face up, the former witch blinked hard and peered at the foreboding clouds through the lattice of branches and limbs and leaves that netted the slate sky above her. Looking up from deep below on the forest floor the ash sky seemed akin to a broken pot puzzled out in the heavens.

The ex-monarch only looked up a moment, the rain dripping upon her dirtied face, before placing her head back down on her scraped and skinned knees. "At least its warm rain this time," she muttered sanguinely beneath her breath to condole her haggard soul.

A month ago she would have been angered and distraught by the rain, now she was simply thankful the summer didn't make the droplets all that cold… most of the time.

Arms wrapped around her legs the former witch sat in a rotted alcove of a still miraculously standing beech tree in the midst of the woods. For the past few days the rough hole, half molded by years of wind and partially dug out by her hands, in the base of the titanic beech had been the only place for her to find even a modicum of sleep. Between the rotting pulp of wood and bark, dull green fungus that frilled the edges, termites and grubs in the decaying mix, and seasons upon seasons old leaves, the place between the massive, arching roots was the closet thing to shelter she had come across in what seemed like eons.

Never would she have entertained the place a shelter in her days when she dwelt in palaces and had servants to attend her every whim, but being picky was the first thing that had fled with her exile.

Closing her eyes tight Regina loathingly braced herself as the first deluge tore from the sky. Soft rain that dribbled and danced an intermittent jig against the plumed canopy all at once became a large roar of water attacking the forest. The first unsteady droplets transformed into a raging cataract, drenching the world and pouring in platinum gray buckets past the thick canopy above.

A miserable curse chattered past Regina's pink lips as the waters drenched her once majestic form. What was once a tall and graceful queen now bared tattered garments of a once fine black gown. Her raven hair clung to her face and traced the lines of her despondent visage like trails of wet kohl. Indeed she looked a far worse spectacle than the woman who had run from the alabaster castle two months ago.

Her black hair sat in dirty, half knotted clumps or oily strands about her face. The pallid beauty she once touted was gone leaving a bit of color given by days in the lidless sun. Streaks of dirt donned her body in place of jewelry and fine paints that not so long ago had accentuated her face. Holes and tears arrayed the sumptuous black and lacy gown transforming the now thin garment worse than peasant wear. The high heeled shoes were long gone, broken and probably covered in mud. She had lost them after the third day.

With her judgment of exile she had been too caught up in losing her son rather than thinking over what exile exactly entailed. Only when the pain had become a dull ache in heart and the grumbling of her stomach grew to measure that of her sorrow had she actually thought of what her exile meant in the basest sense. She had no money, no magic, and no skills in which to survive.

Part of her thought of what her rival Snow White must have felt in her days on the run, but she had survived, nay thrived in her banishment. But Snow had been goodness, light; fate had been cheering her, helping her. Dwarves had taken her in, a wolf-girl had befriended her, a would be prince had fallen in love with her, even the blasted _Dark One _had come to aid her, though his deeds were mostly to benefit his own agenda.

No one wanted to help the former evil queen. Not even fate.

Regina shuddered more thanks to the wind than anything else as the thought smoked through her brain, filling her head with the soot and stains of despair. A clap of thundered bellowed through the sky, drowning out everything but the rumbling of her belly and the lurid contemplations in her skull.

Still, for an evil queen, she had managed to stay alive, barely, but, like Snow White, she had. In her banishment she ate what she could, where she could. In spite of her misery, a wane, self loathing smile briefly tipped Regina's hidden lips. Sometimes she was not sure if she should be grateful or melancholy she had not eaten anything poisonous in her two months.

Was luck being kind some new root she had scrounged did not make her sick when she devoured the morsel, or cruel to let her live gnawing on the summer berries and disgusting plants, dragging her lonesome, pitiful soul on from day to day?

Often when she came to a road in her endless ambling she wished to ask for food, if there even was a soul upon the snaking paths winding through the sprawling woods, but she was a proud woman. Even in hunger she would not beg and she had no skills in which to earn a meal, even if someone were to hire her.

In fact, the last caravan she had crossed by pure accident had displayed the fires of that inauspicious hatred of her was still very much alive in people. They had tossed rocks and pine cones at her from the trail driving her deep into the forest again. They had even cheered when she was out of site after driving her off as they would a wandering bear.

Food nor succor nor shelter would come from others. She was a reviled ex-queen with not a friend in all the realms. Like a lone wolf she was confined to the woods, forever alone, forever loathed and rejected of even her own kind.

Ironic, icy laughter nearly burst from her lips at her despicable new life. How apt a fate.

"You mustn't think of such things, Regina," the exiled woman scolded herself firmly, her voice neat and regal and prim despite the rain and her less than affluent circumstances. Shaking her head stubbornly, tossing droplets from her raven hair in every direction, the witch grimaced and stood up in the silvery deluge. Hands curled stubbornly at her sides she faced the forest world with her cool demeanor of composure. "They don't matter. No one matters. No use welling in pity."

Yes, no use dwelling in things that would never change. Flagged rebellion gripped her heart in a vice as per usual when she talked away her misery. She couldn't afford to dwell in a mire of dourness, that would not fetch her something to eat or a place to sleep. Other things had to steal her thoughts away from her fate and contemplations of solitary and Henry.

First she would scout out the new part of the forest and then things wouldn't seem so bad. Once she had some food and perhaps a dry ledge to crawl under, things would not appear to dark and tumultuous and despondent in her lot… she hoped.

~8~8~

"Burn all forests," Regina snarled under her breath as she trudged miserably through the verdant undergrowth. Water still fell in a moderate downpour from the sky, making every step a challenge to behold and soaking her figure.

Rain brooked down every open part of her form. Her face was swathed with wet and glued her hair to her visage. Swiping the rain from her face, the witch scowled direly. "Burn all forest to char and ash!"

What she wouldn't have given to have her magic back for a moment to set the forest ablaze and clear the firmament. She really did hate the woods. Really, truly, utterly hated them.

The rain had fallen for over the hour she had walked, with still no signs of stopping and managed to fully penetrate the forest carapace of leaves down to the last root. Wet, soggy ground squelched underfoot and vegetation hung heavy with water or plastered to other foliage.

Unkempt dagger like vines and thorns snagged the ragged hem of her dress like bandits hands stealing bits of the once fine sable fabric. Her bare feet sunk into the loamy soil or tripped under a camouflaged root as she maneuvered through the uneven, wild terrain of the forest world. Give the sheen of gray rain and the denseness of the forest one could have well mistaken her for a hag or some phantom forever forced to rove the woodlands in her present state.

Yet despite her other worldly bearing she was more than mist and ectoplasm and phantasmal magic, she was very much alive, cold, miserable, hurt, and hungry.

Glowering furiously, the former witch stomped onwards, ignorant of her direction or bearing in any way. Dark curses of only the profane nature clipped past her lips as she tried to maneuver through without to many cuts from the holly and thorn and thistle. "If I ever get my powers back I will burn down every forest in all the-." Her fuming ceased as she ran into a rain dewed spiders web.

In an instant all queenly bearing dissipated. Arms waving frantically, she shot through the woods trying to rid herself of any eight legged monster that could have been on the massive, sticky web.

Sputtering and spitting she pawed at the strands across her face then at her bedraggled body. Her hands clawed at her form, shearing off web that only clung to her hands like white twine. Failing, she raked a trembling hand through her wet tresses to disabuse the notion of spider infested hair.

For what seemed like hours, though were only minutes she finally managed to shred most of the white film she had so blatantly trudged into. Stoic hardness vapidly settled her racing heart, bringing forth a modicum of shame. Slowly, like a beaten dog her composure began to slink back to her heart.

Looking down she smoothed what she could of her ragged gown. That had been embarrassing, even without anyone watching.

As she disposed of the sticky strands she cursed herself with disapproval. She was the evil queen! Spiders shouldn't have made her run like that. She had been in the woods for two months already! Who was she to run like a terrified girl from a man sized spiders web? Or more importantly, she contemplated, where exactly had her panicked jaunt taken her?

Vapidly Regina turned about in the forest, Head craned up she peered through the unfamiliar surroundings her wild race had taken born her. Wiping her hands on the sides of her dress, the former evil queen looked about. Eyes narrowed she peered through the silvery film of steady rain.

All forest looked the same to her but early she had learned she needed more than one sense to navigate the wild woods. There in the barbarous untamed wilderness she needed her sight, smell, touch, taste, and… hearing, most importantly her hearing and what she heard then, was water.

The sounds of flowing water babbling from a brook or stream hit her ears like a song of thanksgiving. She may not have been a woodswoman but even an idiot could tell wherever there was water animal, plants, life, was sure to be. If there was water, then there was life. Always.

Mind already gone from the spider's web, the woman crept closer to the sounds of burbling water. The line of trees, she noticed as she followed the sound, began to thin out. Thick undergrowth and brush slowly began to give way to stunted pines and fledgling, bendy elm sprigs. Soon the woodland was nothing but a sheer curtain that she stalked behind.

A grim smile alit her face as the sound of water turned into a steady chuckle running over rocks. Through the breaks into he trees she could discern a pebbly shore and a moderately sized stream, a hidden arm to some bigger tributary somewhere miles away.

Sliding close to one of the bigger trees, the disowned queen peered unto the shore of the creek. Her umber eyes puckered as she gazed into the opening with a cautions glance. Slowly her hand moved up and brought down a fir limb that stood in her way to scan the brook for habitation.

The creek looked untouched for the most part. Nothing major disturbed the place but there was sign of another presence. A tawny net made of frayed cord had been laid out on the shore and nearby, hung on a rack, was… fish!

Glee filled Regina's heart like the sky still filled with clouds. Her stomach rumbled with the vigor of a rabid wolf at the sight of fresh caught fish hanging on a rack after a fresh catch. She had no fire in which to cook the food but she had learned early on raw fish would not kill her.

Scanning the area again, the former queen observed to the best of her ability the creek and the forest line on the other side of the inlet. No one seemed about!

At once the webs of schemes began to spin frenziedly through her cunning thoughts. Plans slowly knit together from the corners of her brain in a rough sketch of some action.

She would have the fish, but she wouldn't take everything. To take all would be to encourage pursuit. A few stolen away and whoever caught the fish would perhaps simply curse and cut his loses.

That was an admirable plan, she deduced inwardly. She would not take everything, just enough to stop being hungry for the day… and maybe the next as well.

Determination steeled Regina's eyes at the recourse and her path was set. Her fists gathered up the tattered fabric of her dress so as not to impeded her strides.

Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, the former monarch brazenly ran out in the open.

Her feet barely scraped against the loose pebbles as she raced. Smaller rocks flew up in her dash and clacked against the shore in protest but she was going to fast to regret the extra noise. Eyes pinioned upon the fish she focused only on the food before her and nothing else. Not even the rain was a though in her head.

Jerking to a stop at the rack she tugged half of the silvery hand sized fish off the wooden frame. The brown thread that bound them to the wood snapped easily with each tug, leaving what she had done obvious at the first glance, but not a lick of care shivered through her.

Mouth moist, the witch fought not to gorge upon the fish where she stood and dare discovery. Even at the fishy smell her mouth nearly watered. She could almost taste them!

But no time for that now! Only when she was back in the safety of the forest where none could track through the damp would she be safe.

With that mental prompt, the exile turned away. Half of her expected to be met with a trap but none came. Left hand holding fish, right still balled up to hitch her gown, the witch raced off the way she had came. Joy beat an errant tattoo against her chest, suffusing her limbs with adrenaline and speed, and her soul with hope. Perhaps fate was finally deciding to smile upon her!

Breath from running and exhilaration bellowed past her mouth as she slipped back into the blinds of the thick forest. The veil of the forest cloaked her better than any invisibility potion could have. Once in the thick of the woods, one could slip from sight.

Arms laden with her catch, she stopped only when she reached the very border of the thicker part of the woods. She didn't dare stop anywhere else, nor go longer without at least having one fish to sate her appetite.

Gladdened, Regina eased down unto the wet, loamy floor of the forest behind an ancient oak. She should have run more, should have made her way back to her rotted tree, if she remembered in what direction that was, but the call for a meal was too much. Her stomach growled persistently begging for food.

Laying the pile of fish, eight in total, on the last leaves of autumn the woman picked up the biggest silvery catch of her haul. Slowly her tongue dragged across her lips in expectation. Her hands came up to her mouth as her mouth came down to meet the scales. Finally, a good meal.

"You're not a very good thief are you?" a male voice asked right as the fish got half way to Regina's mouth.

A heavy sigh fled Regina's mouth at the inquiry. Fate had been a little late on dealing her a bad hand, this time, but the clock of her never ceasing misfortune had struck once again with resounding clarity.

Leaning her back against the tree she let her arms drop to her lap along with the fish. Sometimes she thought the entire world would cease to exist if she was allowed to get away with something, just once, without repercussions of any sort.

Eyes narrowed into a scathing glare she scanned the woods for the speaker. "One I am not a thief and second why do you say that?" she spat wryly to the woods where the man lurked somewhere hidden in the greenery.

There was no need to deny or lie. There she was caught red handed in the brazenness way.

"To answer the latter is because a good thief would have also taken the net," the man claimed matter-of-factly, his voice neither angry nor happy, but a mixture of calmness and amusement.

Leaves rustled from above and Regina had only a moment to peer up before the man dropped right in front of her from the trees.

The man before her cut a neat appearance. Dressed in the colors of forest green he blended expertly with the woodland. He was of modest eight and his hair was dark brown and neatly trimmed along with a neat beard and soul patch. He wasn't particularly lean but he looked wiry and cagey along with strength born of a fighting man. A quiver of arrows feathered with goose quills hung on his back and an ash wood longbow hung in his grip.

Longbow in his hand, he pressed the end of the weapon in the moist earth before him like a bent staff. Hands clasped at the top of the bow he looked down at her with a roughish grin. "And as for the former I must say I'm completely at a loss to reply. To take what is not yours is the definition of thievery. Believe me I know in every way what that means."

"And if you knew who I was you would know I am not stealing in the least. I am Queen Regina," the disposed queen reveled, her voice tinged with ice and pride that demanded respect from all when she truly had been the queen. A sneer viciously wrenched her lips as she looked at him up and down with a scathing inspection. "But by the looks of you I'd wager a guess you've been so busy being an ignorant backwoodsman that you probably don't know anything of importance."

Laughter erupted from the man's smiling lips at her acidic words. Her insults seemed to roll off him as the rain did his oil skin cloak. "Forgive a lowly serf for pointing out something so obvious milady but queens do not go out gallivanting deep into the southern wood without entourage, retinue, attendants, or knights. I've heard of you. I daresay you'd have to be deaf not to and even then someone could simply point out your sketch on a poster. Though with the matter at hand I don't care if you are a flying unicorn. The fact remains that you have stolen fish I worked hard to catch."

Icy eyes glared up at the man who had so deftly swooped down from the trees. Her jaw clenched in a vice as though she was holding back a torrent of rage. The gall and calm doggedness of the man was near indefinable.

Fearlessly the man held her gaze. A hint of humor danced in his eyes as though she were a petulant child daring her chances at throwing a tantrum.

There was no way to win the dispute. He was right and nothing could dissuade that.

A scoff fled Regina's lips as she broke the stare first. Rolling her eyes she feigned annoyance as though dealing with an idiot who was not worthy of her time and would be best to accommodate for the sake of her sanity. "Far be it from me to tell a stupid backwoodsman what he thinks, be it true or not," Regina rebuffed testily with a sniff. There was no way she could keep the fish. Better to simply pretend she was placating him.

Wrenching her eyes away she flung the fish in her lap at his knee high boots. "Take them back then. I've decided I no longer have a taste for anything pelagic today," she remarked haughtily, turning up her nose at the fish.

As if on cue her stomach groaned almost in lurid despair at the pride of their body. Regina fought hard not to flinch at the weakness of her growling belly. Like a gossiper, her hunger told the tale to the man. Could she not even trust her body any longer to preserve what little dignity she had left? Could her stomach not cease garrulous protest just to preserve her indignation?

Sighing, the man knelt to collect the fish. His short, dusky brown hair peaked from under his hood and gave him a boyishly scoundrel like look. One by one he hooked the fish to a line of twine, taking her dinner away one knot at a time.

Scratching the back of his neck with a free hand he looked as though he was fighting with an inner struggle. Obviously she was hungry. Hungry enough to not even think about the trail leading straight to her, but that did not take away the fact they were not hers.

"Look," he began hesitantly, "I won't let you take these, but if you follow me back to my camp I'll fry them up and make sure you're fed a good hot meal."

Though the woman looked to have the temperament of a crocodile with a toothache, he couldn't rightly leave her there hungry. The evil queen of legend she certainly was, but as of the moment she was hungry and fie upon his honor if he let someone, even the evil queen go without at least a meal.

Regina's eyes hardened. "I don't go gallivanting off with strangers. A backwoodsman at that," she snapped imperiously as though insulted by even his suggestion. Lips shrewdly tight, she seemed truly affronted at some impudence. "I don't cavort with whatever little lowly bug you are, backwoodsman. How dare you even suggest such a thing."

A short, unbelieving laugh husked past his lips. The nerve of the woman. Part of him had a good mind to leave her then and there, but no, he couldn't, not when the pangs of honor struck him. "I only suggest what I say. A meal with cooked fish, bread, and even a bit of ale if Tuck hasn't gotten into it all." He looked up to her again, meeting her brown eyes with a hint of compassion. "Looks like you need one, milady."

"Don't tell me what I need backwoodsman," she bit nastily. "I don't need anything from the likes of you. And you will address me as your majesty, subject!"

If she could at least get deference that was something. If she would not have a meal then even a hint of respect would help stymie that hungry gaping wound in her belly.

Rising, the archer grunted as he came back to full eight. Slinging his bow over one shoulder, the fish over the other he preformed a curt, mocking bow. "Suit yourself, _majesty_."

Briskly turning away the man disappeared into the woods. He was like a ghosts shadow; one moment he was there, the next he was not.

For a moment Regina sat there in the cold and the wet. The rain had stuttered into a trickle but night was fast to be falling and she still didn't have any supper, the fourth night in a row at that.

Inward anger gripped her heart with flaming claws that scored down her soul in long tracks of rage for both lost food and impudent man. How dare the man treat her in such a disrespectful, intolerable manner! To be so placating to her like she was a begging mendicant! She had to follow him if just to let him know his infractions!

"How dare you insult me so backwoodsman!" Regina scrambled up and quickly raced off in the direction he had headed. Stumbling through the forest she hoped to catch him before he went to far so he could get a good piece of her mind.

Laughter echoed off the trees as he suddenly, almost by magic, appeared in front of her. His steps were silent as death and he walked in an easterly direction through the thicket. Mildly shifting the bundle on his back, he tread at a fast pace through he woods, though he seemed to use the pace like a leisurely stride. "Insult you, majesty?" More laughter echoed from his mouth. "However did I do that?"

"For one thing telling me something I _need_," she informed him laconically as she followed closely behind. "Peasants do not tell royalty what they need, least they want to get the executioners axe! And furthermore what gives you the right to sneak up on me so? Dropping out of the trees like a wild man or a bandit! Only scoundrels sneak up on women in such a fashion! Who do you think you are!" she snarled and sneered and cursed at him as they moved through the woods, throwing out every infraction he had committed in their trip and tossing others in for good measure that surely he would have had he been given the chance.

The falling light alit only the highest treetops with gold as the man finally slowed to what others would have conceived as an easy pace. Barely troubled, more invigorated than anything else by the brisk pace, he slowed down to settle the few lads that were on watch.

Their ease wouldn't last for long, though, he knew imperatively. Despite the arguments inside himself, and the knowing of what was to come because of his actions, a small smirk twitched on his face. Given who trailed him, their ease of seeing their leader was about to be rocked to the core. That was as sure as his shooting.

Breathing hard, still fuming after the long journey, Regina slowly flagged to the gentler pace. Relief lined her face with the simpler stride before her hard features hid the morsel of respite. "And finally why do you think for an instant, as a queen who's lived in ostentatious and sumptuous citadels I would like to go to the grubby little place you must call home, backwoodsman?"

"Because, majesty," the man sighed and took another step through a thick tangle of trees and vines as though walking through a veil. The vines and undergrowth were thicker than usual where he stepped, becoming almost a curtain in the midst of the woods, nearly hiding what lay behind the flora.

Irked, Regina followed doggedly. "Because what!" she demanded sharply and plunged through the thicket behind him. The words nearly caught in her throat as she gazed upon the place the man had led her.

A simple, small grove past the thick tangle stood before her. A bright fire burned in the center and tents in arrays of faded colors were arrayed haphazardly in the confines; all being shed with light by the fire.

Men in woodsman's clothes or dark leather gathered around the fire. Others sat on hewn stumps or rocks. Dancing flames cavorted about the shadows casting their bodies in an eerie luminance. They seemed more like a gathering of barbaric ghosts than men.

From all the rough looking men, few as they were, a small boy no more than five sat in their midst's playing with wooden horse. All silenced at the two entered the grove. Their eyes went to the bowman then to Regina. One by one their orbs widened. They couldn't have been more surprised if she was a dragon that had found their enclave!

A smirk donned the archer's lips as he left Regina at the shadowy coppice of trees at the very border of the encampment and strode confidently in the center of the small camp.

Turning to face her, he dipped another nearly courtly bow. "Why? Because majesty you are here. Welcome to the camp of Robin Hood."


	3. The Camp

"How dare you!" Regina seethed hatefully to the man in the midst of the woodland camp. Eyes narrowed murderously, she glared upon the archer with irascible fury. Her fists still filled with ragged black gown quivered at her side. "How _dare _you trick me into coming with you!"

A scoff spurted from the man's bearded mouth, his lips curving into a larger, hesitant smirk. Arms held akimbo, he looked genuinely confused. "Trick you? Milady I am no capriccio. You came of your own free will, giving me a tongue lashing all the way might I add."

The way she had harangued him in their jaunt she should have been grateful he hadn't led her into a wolves den! If anyone should have been affronted that should have been he for all the ruckus she had raised! Trust that's what a good deed obtained him, insults ignobly hurled at him from the ex-queen and being accused of some trickery when he only meant a good deed!

"You insulted me just so I would follow you!" she accused and stabbed a ring-less finger in his direction. Any other time she would have conjured her magic to turn him into a slug or something of that nature but her magic was long gone leaving only hollow, angry gestures like an old puppet master trying to make dance only cut strings.

Shaking his head, rough chuckles silked past his lips. Features twisting into a look of amusement and confusion, he eyed her in absolute disbelief. "That's gratefulness for you. You accuse me of trickery and insult when I did not intend either." Taking a deep breath, Hood quelled his prickling ire. "In any case you are here. I'll forgive your blistering accusation and you may enter the camp."

"Forgiveness?" the former witch balked. "Forgiveness? You dare assume I would ask for such from a trifling backwoodsman! You dare think I would actually set foot in your insignificant camp under a banner of gratefulness and thanks!" Regina spat venomously, her voice low and nearly growling with anger.

Robin sighed futilely, his shoulders sinking a bit as though tired of dealing with a petulant child who refused to cooperate after a long day of quarreling. "Since apparently in your estimation I do a lot of that, yes I do dare, majesty. I dare very much."

"Well I won't enter your pathetic, dirty little camp!" rebuffed Regina viciously. Stabbing a fist down through the air like a gavel rested in her grip, she defied him stubbornly. Inwardly she flinched at the high cost of her pride denying her finally a decent safe place to sit and eat, but she let nary a sign of regret slip past her iron veil of affront.

To enter would mean she was bowing under in defeat to the man. Her pride was too great to enter in front of them all and now her temper and her tongue had foolishly put her in a place where she could not mend her words without seeming to abdicate to him and that could not be allowed.

Mouth curving into a rueful line, the leader of the band looked up to the latticed heavens. Placing a hand over the ridge of his brow his mouth thinned into a contemplative line. "The day is gone, majesty. Even I would be hard pressed to find my way back to the stream in this light, or wherever you call home."

Curse the man! Regina forced down a wave of bile with his outspoken, perceptive eye. Anger smoldered as a banked fire in her heart but she refused to let the glow seep through. He was right in more ways than she knew. Even now, had it been full day light she would have not known her way back to the creek or to the rotted tree.

Sensing her hesitation, the archer jumped at the chance. "There are wolves out majesty." If that would not convince a woman bred of nobles caste to stay at least for the night, nothing would.

"That may be so," she admitted calmly, her voice still hemmed with an icy sharpness, but blunted a bit by her sedated tone. Eyes half lidded she tilted her head up in the majesty of a woman too good for her state. "But I will not enter your camp." She couldn't. Not in front of them all, not after she had put up such a fuss.

Amusement at her stubbornness tickled him on the inside. Scratching his thatch of brown hair, he adopted another look of confusion, one partly mocking. "Then where will you go?"

"Here," replied Regina promptly. With a quick turn she faced away from him and the entire camp. The glow of the fire gleamed against her wet tangle of hair and the porcelain yet sullied skin exposed from rips and tears. Easing down half behind a gnarled hickory tree she crossed her arms and faced the wild woodland. "I'll stay right here."

"At the border of the camp?" Hood queried, his voice indelibly laced with mirth and disbelief. Full blown laughter nearly erupted from his mouth but he managed to suppress his amusement before his mirth broke free.

"Do I have to draw a picture for you backwoodsman?" she insulted crisply, her voice evenly dark and imperious. "You don't own the woods. I'll stay wherever I wish."

Unless he forced her away from his enclave he couldn't stop her. Not only were the Southern woods untamed, no one owned them. They stretched endlessly and had always remained free even in her rule.

Low curses muttered from Robin's lips at her stubbornness. Of all the women, of all the exiles, of all the people he had the ill luck to run into, of all his blasted honor…. "Suit yourself, majesty," he grunted in low assent. If she wanted to be cold and in the dark and hold tight to her stubbornness then far be it from him to cajole her otherwise.

Turning to the campfire, the notorious archer hefted the lines of fish caught and tried to ignore the woman. "Lads what say we eat, eh?"

Complete silence lingered about the camp after his jollily forced query. Like a blanket smothering their voices the few loyal men Robin had left only blinked at him. The crackling fire and the serenade of crickets along with the drudgery of croaking frogs were the only noises in the night.

Then, like a damn shattered by the waters that were not to be contained, the flood of words gushed out.

"Robin, have you lost your mind! Do you have any idea who that is?" Little John thundered sonorously as though his booming voice could shake whatever ensorcelled enchantment the woman had put upon him away and lift the magical scales from his eyes.

Little John, quite unlike his name, was a bear of a man. His body was tall and his muscles that weren't made of flabby corpulence rippled along his body. He seemed almost born half giant than full man. With an untamable beard and a thatch of shaggy brown hair messily upon his head, had he been far enough away in the forest one could have easily mistaken him for a bear standing upon their hind legs.

Allan of Dale leapt to his feet. Lean and nimble, the man was akin to a straggly weed. Hair the color of dirty water was cut with what could have only been a knife just above his ears. His body was long and gangly and his face was ugly with pockmarks and red splotches. He sported a broken nose and a glint of anger in his eyes. One hand upon his blade, his eyes puckered towards the edge of the camp. " Of course he knows who she is, everyone knows! What were you thinking bringing her here, Robin!"

"Has she put a spell on you, friend, transforming you into some pedantic henchmen?" Tuck asked, the calmer of the major trio of the camp. The roundest of the three, Tuck, once a novice shaman looked the most relaxed of them. He had a penchant for good dram but could handle himself and his words of wisdom more than made up for his likes of a good stout ale now and then. His hair was on the wane at the top but had once been a golden hue. Only he was without the forest garb, preferring the dress of the shaman in an earth colored robe.

The other paltry merry men still left all voiced their blistering opinion.

"She should be run out of the forest!"

"Let the wolves have her, Robin!"

"And here you were chastising poor little Roland the other day for bringing home strays and look you've bought worse than the baby bear he got to follow him here!"

Listening to every word, Regina forced a cool carapace of hate about her for the men. Hardened exoskeleton bound about her heart like riveted bands of iron, she did not so much as flinch at their inflamed tones. Though that last barb had hurt more than should have been the case.

Carefully arranging her face and pushing back any emotion the witch let the insults come without a hint of pain. Steeling herself she brushed off their outrage. She wasn't in the camp, and even if she was the words of peasants and serfs and criminals meant nothing to a queen.

Patting his hands at the air for silence and calm, the roguish archer fought to be heard. "Alright, alright I know you're all upset. This is the last thing anyone would expect and you're not pleased I bought an outsider into our camp."

"We wouldn't care about that," Allan interrupted in correction, his lips pried back into a snarl. "If she wasn't the evil, blasted queen!"

A cold, scolding glare shot from Robin to the querulous Allan of Dale but he continued, his voice reasonable and even. "Least we forget our mission was to help those that were in need."

Had they been idle so long they had forgotten their purpose of being a merry man?

"Aye but she's the one who helped make them like that," John rumbled disapprovingly. "Everyone one we found, everyone we gave food to or saved from certain death could all be linked back to her, her curse, or her rule. I won't have a hand in helping her Robin. Anyone else, but not her."

Nods and muttered, angry "ayes" of hateful assent rang from the small gathering, each agreeing to what John had put in his true blunt fashion. Not a one was willing to help the evil queen.

Well this _was_ a predicament. Sighing, Robin scratched the back of his head. He had expected some fuss but not the torrent that had crashed down upon him and swept him away in a flash flood of hatred. "There's no need to worry and fuss, I suppose." He jerked a thumb back to the edge of camp. "She's out there and we're here. Does that make things so unbearable for the night? Can we not show a modicum of tolerance?"

Could they not abide someone who was not even set foot in their glade? Did their anger and hatred and loathing run so deep into the canals of every vein and tunnel of their body?

A few disgruntled mutters but no protest arose at that. She wasn't in their grove per say but at the outlying thicket that surrounded them. None liked to quarrel with their leader and he oft talked to them of compromises. Perhaps that was begrudgingly suitable for the night.

"I suppose now whenever there's trouble we can say we've had worse at our borders," Allan conceded grimly, his words assenting to meeting Robin's. Hands uncurled the ugly Allan sat back down next to the fire. His eyes glowed with mistrust in a scathing glare up at Robin but he was ready to let the night pass.

A large smile wove upon Hood's lips in grand relief. The support of one usually meant the support of all. Slapping Little Johns man's back as he danced nearer to the fire, he gave a boisterous laugh of happiness. "If that's settled what's say we eat, lads!"

Cheers raucously echoed through the secluded grove akin to the thundering of earlier. At the mention of food, all ills could be temporarily overlooked, even one as displeasing as the former queen.

Regina pressed her legs against her chest as she had before the storm had started in the evening. Like before she put her forehead on her knees and cursed everything she could think of to ignore the growling of her stomach and the lurid voices of the men in the camp.

~8~8~

_ "Mom can we go on the Ferris Wheel this time?" Henry pulled his mother along the busy, once barren, lot now turned fair ground and towards the neatly erected white and pink 60's style Ferris Wheel rising like a heathen tower in the middle of the fair. _

_ At eight years old he always wanted to try new things and explore new places even though he was no big fan of heights. _

_ Perhaps his bravery was do to the deep fried candy bar treat they had shared, perhaps trail of her leniency was due to the fact of that as well, but she grinned at her son as they made their way through the packed sea of people. "Alright, Henry," she assented with a gentle, motherly smile of indulgent. _

_ As they broke through the line, a perk of her ruling as major and also terrifying the town, they sat on a faded cotton candy pink seat. Grumpy Leroy slammed the small metal door shut and the gray iron bar went down over their thighs. _

_ Immediately, the ancient ride gave a buzz and a crank of recently oiled gears and cogs and the machine jolted to life. Little by little the ride hoisted them aloft, lifting them up in the bucket and slowly over the fair and the town. _

_ Henry hugged her close, wrinkling her neat blue-black suit but she didn't care. He was close again and he could ruin anything he liked just as long as he was near. "May… maybe this was a bad Idea," he voiced, his childish timbre hedged with the sudden fear of being up in the air._

_ "It's alight, Henry," Regina soothed and stroked his silky brown hair. "I overlooked all of the rides erected. Nothing bad will happen to you." _

_ "But mom," his voice turned a bit older, more matured, "what about you?"_

_ The words he had asked her the day she parted in her exile rang throughout her mind like an old bell tolling in her memories. Looking down, she saw not the eight year old but the growing boy she had left that day in her exile. _

_ Abruptly, a strong wind pushed her as she marveled at the growing boy at her side. Tendrils of her sable hair fluttered crazily in the errant wind. The handle flew up from her lap and she felt herself being lifted higher into the air. _

_ Desperately, she grabbed the edge of the bucket. Her body felt as though it was trying to be sucked into an invisible hole in the darkening sky. Agony and pain and loss wrenched her face as she held on to the bucket for dear life, just a little more time with her son. "Henry… Henry let me grab your hand. Henry, please don't let me go." _

_ "Mom…" his voice became faint and fainter as well as his image. "Mom…" She could still hear him say her name. "Mom…Mim…Miss… miss…."_

_ Even in her pain, the witched brow wrinkled. Henry had never called her Miss. _

"Miss Queen Lady?" a small voice not from the realms of dreams whispered beside her. "Miss?"

Clawing herself from the sanguine realm of sleep and the dream that had turned unpleasant, Regina drowsily lifted her head from her knees and opened her eyes. Stiffness wedged in the bottom of her back, telling her she had managed to fall asleep long enough that the cold and the awkward position of sleeping in the woods had done a job on her already tired body.

The world about her was pitch black; all save for the trees that surrounded the glade. Dim firelight reflected dully off the trees adding a modicum of ruddy orange light to the edges of the camp.

Turning her head slowly, the once queen eyed the newcomer. Even sitting down she was at height with the person to her right.

A boy in wool clothing dyed the same color as the rest stood before her. His hair was a dusky brown and his face was round. A small stick he pretended was a sword hung from a cord at his hip and in his hands was a wooden plate. Two pieced of cooked fish and a large portion of dark bread sat on the plate and in the other was a wooden mug of something.

"Hello," distrust, but no hostility, edged her wry voice as she scanned the boy up and down with her chocolate eyes. "Who're you?"

A big grin exploded from ear to ear on his boyish features. "I'm Roland," he announced cheerfully. Placing the plate and mug on the ground beside her, he patted her shoulder. "My paw paw said you could have this if you want."

Looking down at the meal Regina forced herself not to stare for too long least she throw herself at the simple fare like a ravenous wolf would do a lame dear. Even in front of a child she did not wish to seem so utterly destitute and starving. Drool collected at the left side of her mouth but she decorously wiped the first pretense of saliva way with a knuckle.

"Good," she replied haughtily, salvaging what she could of her pride. "He finally realized the fish was mine anyway."

Roland scratched his head, his expression the same as his fathers when confused. "That's funny. Did you catch them, Miss? I know my paw paw used to rob people but only the ones that looked rich and fancy."

So he was a bandit. Regina tucked that tiny morsel of information away into the annals of her mind. Perhaps that could be of use to her one day.

"No it's just…." Sighing, she curtailed her explanation before going further. Why as she trying to divulge anything to a child; the child of the infuriating backwoodsman no less? "Never mind. Go back to your father, Roland."

Nodding like a shaken bobble head, the young lad made a salute like a little soldier. "Yes miss evil queen."

"Don't call me that," she corrected before he departed. Cracks raced over her cool carapace just a bit and allowed a modicum of tenderness to ooze out from behind her walls towards the little boy. "My name is Regina, Roland," she reveled with a hint of softness to the boy, her lips curving into a ghost of a smile. "And because your father sent a boy to do a man's job, you have earned the right to call me that."

The boy beamed like the rays of the noon day sun. He seemed proud to have done something no other had. Puffing out his chest he nodded eagerly. "Yes Miss Regina. Goodbye Miss Regina."

A faint smile twitched on Regina's lips as she heard boy toddle off. His leather shoes rustled against the old leaves and crunched over the thick foliage and twigs with much less stealth as his 'paw paw' held. Henry had had been like that once. Always eager to meet a new face, daring danger with a smile and laugh.

Like a fiery brand in the dark, the thoughts of her son, lost to her, fell back into her mind and immutably pressed against her heart in searing agony. Torment swathed across her face in a flash of hurt. Memories of her son crashed through the moment of relative ease. Pain squeezed like a vice clamp in her heart and she shook her head morosely at even her sons name.

Mouth curving into a frown, she snorted softly. Why did every thought lead back to Henry?

Determined to seal the pain from her thoughts, the ex-royal turned to the only other thing that could drag her contemplations off so - a meal. Picking up the plate of food, the former witch plucked up a cooked fish and dug into the meal with gusto.

The taste of good food, cooked and fresh and spiced exploded in her mouth in an array of flavors she had forgotten. Simple, but hot and filling, she hadn't recalled a better meal in all her days.

"Paw paw why won't miss Regina come into camp and eat with us?" Roland asked his father curiously as he scuttled nearer to the fire where his father sat.

Grunting, Hood picked up his son and placed him on his lap. His eyes flickered from the boy then to the woman half adumbrate against the tree, his lips arching into a clandestine, mischievous grin. "Do you remember that mule we had a few years back?"

Regina twisted her head sharply from the side of the tree to look sideways into the camp. Fury danced in her umber eyes and sparkled with the scant fire light. All her rage laid aim at the daring, sharp tongued Robin Hood like daggers. How dare he try to compare her to a mule!

Roland nodded and plucked crumbs of bread and fish out of his father's beard. "Of course paw paw! He wouldn't push the cart or even move when a wolf came after him."

"That's right," Robin agreed, his voice light and playful. He tweaked his son's nose cheekily and winked. "What he was is what she is."

The boy scratched his head, his features scrunched slightly. He didn't quite catch on. "But what was the mule?"

Low laughter, soft and fatherly escaped the outlaw. Ruffling his son's hair he put him down on the forest floor. "You'll know when you're older." He smiled tenderly and pushed the lad towards the tents. "Now go get ready for bed. I'll be there to tuck you in."

Scrubbing his nose with the back of his hand, Roland tottered off to one of the tents haphazardly placed under an oak. Little John ruffled the lads dusky brown hair as he passed and the boy giggled before disappearing into the tent.

A great yawn fell from the bearish man, Little John's, thick lips. Scratching his bulging belly with one hand he stretched out before getting to his feet. His dark shadow momentarily blocked out more of the fires glow before he stood, a giant amongst men. "I think I'll be taking little master Roland's example and getting some shut eye myself," he acknowledged to the leader of their band.

With a grunt, the large fellow lumbered over to a boulder and placed his back upon the rock. He folded his hairy arms over his rotund stomach and crossed his ankles. "Night Robin."

"Night John," Robin repaid softly, his lips quirked into a half smile. Per usual John was the second to last to go to bed and always outside as though the elements could not bother him.

Grunting once, like a bear content with a hibernation spot, the large man closed his eyes. Almost by magic of a sleeping curse, his wildly matted head dipped to his chest. His breathing came softer but only for a moment before loud snores rattled the hulk.

Raucous noise that sounded like logs being hewn by a fleet of cutters filled the once tranquility of the camp. The sound resounded about the grove and echoed off the trees, only amplifying the noise. Dirty brown beard fluttered with every large snore that guttered from the man. His whole body seemed to take to the snoring with a vigor even in his sleep and shake him enough force to ratter him awake though he never once rankled up from the realm of repose or stirred in discomfort.

Affectionate laughter whispered past the archer's lips and he shook his head as Little John began to sleep. By now they were all used to the noise that filled the night as normally as the crickets and the frogs.

"Is he going to keep that dreadful noise all night?" Regina queried in a sneer. Disgust laced her voice as though she had discovered something repugnant to her sensibilities.

Hood nodded though she couldn't see. Leaning his left elbow back to hold himself up, he picked at his empty plate. "That's what you're complaining about?" he huffed in lazy, humorous disbelief. "I thought for sure I would get another tongue lashing for comparing you to a humble mule."

"I was coming to that, backwoodsman," snapped Regina, her voice crisp and officious as though once more a queen dealing with a brash peasant. Imperiously she smoothed down parts of her tattered dress. "But since you expect me to call you out on such I will not oblige your stupidity in that regard."

Deep inside she knew very well he had been trying to get a rise out of her. She would not take the bait from some uncultured imbecile with a quick tongue.

Heaving his shoulders in a careless shrug the archer let the matter slide. Taking up a stick he roused the fire that had fallen low. Bits of char and pulsing embers swirled up into the sky and spiraled in a orange and gray dance that floated on the wind.

Adding another log to the fire to bolster the flames up once more for the night, he stared deep into the dancing tongues bickering over the wood. At length a sigh crept past his lips. "I can't do anything about John, nor would I if I could. If you please then you are most free to find somewhere his snoring does not disturb you." Finally standing up, the bandit rubbed a kink out of his back and looked towards the trees. "If not then my offer still stands. I welcomed you into my camp."

"You can take your welcome use it to shut up that filthy cretin," growled Regina nastily. Folding her arms over her chest she frowned into the darkness as though the night had earned her anger and scorn.

A faint hint of laughter escaped Hood. How could someone be so ungrateful and prickly? "You really are a disagreeable woman." He shook his head, his hair becoming disheveled in a way that only added to his roguish charm. "Despite all that," he sighed again, "good night your majesty. Maybe dawn will see you in a better mood."

If anything, he hoped at least she would be gone, attitude shift or no. He had at least given her a meal. What she did now was her business.

Nobility hummed in him for that small kindness. Guilt would have eaten him up if he hadn't done that at least. But what would happen now? Was her going away the best thing to be done?

Tent fabric rustling echoed faintly through the camp and reached Regina's ears. The sound was like a horn to her, goading her into action. Now that the man had gone to tuck his son in and go to sleep himself was the time to move.

In truth that was what she had been waiting for. Going into the camp with all those eyes upon her couldn't be allowed. She hadn't the humility for that, but alone, with people asleep she could allow herself to enter with her pride in tact. They could draw there own conclusions in the morning, none of them would be certain and that was good enough for her.

Mulch and dead leave rustled faintly as she stood. Like a thief she held her back to the tree, the coarse bark digging into her skin. Slowly she rounded the tree and faced the light of the camp fully. The flames were still high and her damp clothes and clammy skin ached to be by the warmth.

The camp looked all asleep. The men were in their tents and the large man was asleep at his rock. Save for his snores, quiet ubiquitously endowed the encampment. Nothing looked out of place in the slightest. Perfect.

Barely a sound escaped Regina's strides as she entered the camp. What sounds of twigs cracking and leaves scuffling was lost amidst John's snores.

Drawn like a moth to the flames the former witch all but ran to the fire.

"Did the woods no longer suit your fancy, Majesty?" Robin asked with a mocking curiosity.

Adumbrated in the darker parts of the grove, he stood nearly invisible to the eye, a hunter waiting for his prey. Vapidly he strode from his hiding place and into the light to face the caught witch. Crossing his arms over his tunic, he looked at her with an impudent kind of gaze. His lips formed a half smirk that spoke everything he knew.

That smirk! Regina seethed inwardly, her anger knotting into a ball of bile and fire. What she wouldn't give to wipe that roughish smile from his lips! A pall nearly fell over Regina's face but she refused to give him the satisfaction of showing her surprise.

Straightening to her most empirical height, the former witch jutted her chin up nobly. Her hands clutched the remnants of her sable tattered gown and snapped them tightly to her side so that the ends fluttered some before swaying at her sides.

Turning back to the fire she marched towards the blaze in her most regal way she could fashion. "I do what I want," she declared icily. She had already been caught, what else could she say to justifying her presence?

There was no point in going back. Would she slink again into the shadows like an animal up to no good? She was a queen, not some scurrying serf getting caught stealing extra bread. Now that she had put to motion her action she couldn't retreat. Never that.

Smile wide, the archer shook his head softly. His steps barely made a sound as he padded over to his tent. "Like a mule," he muttered as Regina lay down on her side by the fire.

Arms crossed, the woman faced the blaze and dutifully tried to ignore the leader of the band. Golden and red light bathed the front of her figure, yet keeping her back, like her heart, dark and cold. Her body slightly curled up to find more warmth, she seemed the most impertinent stray as someone had claimed earlier than anything that once resembled royalty.

Trails of milky steam slithered and crept from her clothes and hair as she began to dry out. She looked miserable there but that was her own stubborn fury.

Laughter escaped his lips again, as it so often did, and he slipped inside, his head shaking slowly. Just like a mule this queen was.


	4. Cauldrons

The next morning brought a day that seemed clear and bright and clean of all the ills that had plagued the woods the day before. What lingering clouds that skulked across in the night sky had shredded away giving leave to a clear, wondrous morn. Droplets of rain pearled in translucent jeweles upon the leaves of the thick branches trees. Slants of soft honey light slipped obliquely through the breaks in the trees and alit the fog of the morning with gold.

Vibrancy took hold of the entire forest. The water seemed to paint the fauna and flora with extra splashes of deeper colors. Moss that governed fallen logs seems as bright as jade and the sun motes that fell through the trees and gilded the forests were like golden flakes. Ashen smoke from the dead fire gave away the suns tawny rays that broke through the thick canopy, transforming the once treacherous woods into an Elysian glade.

Birds sang happily, animals plodded along on their business, and even the wind seemed to bid a chipper morning to the realms in apology of the day before.

Regina smiled faintly, in a sleepy fashion as she curled up a bit more on the forest floor. The ground was hard to be sure, but soft, if not trampled, moss was around the fire alleviating a bit of discomfort.

With a sigh, the woman flipped to her other side. Ease filled her heart with a goad of relaxation. After two long months in exile on her own she couldn't remember being so comfortable.

Arm extended, the woman grasp something soft. She could almost believe the thing was a pillow and she was back in her silk black pajamas in her bed in Storybrooke. Consternation abruptly wrinkled her brow at the thought. Pillow? No, that wasn't right. Pillows were not hairy nor did they… snore?

Alarm and disgust swarmed Regina's senses like thousands of roaches skittering and hissing over her pleasant slumber. Wrenching her eyes open she looked at the hairy, unkempt face of Little John. His mouth was wide open as he bellowed his snores, giving her an unpleasant dose of morning breath and a horrid shot of yellowed teeth.

Shock froze her just long enough to regain the memories of the day before. In an instant anger washed over her, spurring her shock to rage and indignation."What is the meaning of this?" the former queen screeched and ferociously shoved the man away.

Little John snorted, only rocking a bit. Slowly rankling awake, he blinked and snorted sleepily. "Huh, so you didn't try to murder us all while we were asleep." He gazed at her sleepily, nonplussed by her outrage. Turning over from her as though he could care less, he placed an arm under his head and tried to snuggle down for a few extra minutes of shut eye. "You hear that, Robin? She actually didn't try to kill us."

"By your guarding, old friend," Robin laughed cheerfully from the other side of the fire.

Outraged, Regina scrambled to her feet. Brown eyes bright with rage she looked at the sleeping brute then swiveled to the man on the other side of the campfire. The leader was standing over a bubbling cauldron filled with some cream colored mushy substance that bubbled and popped.

Ignoring the pot, she stared at him wrathfully. "What is the meaning of this, backwoodsman!" she demanded again, her voice not mollified an inch.

How dare they get so close to her! How dare that brute sleep so close!

Shrugging indolently, Robin poked a stick at the guttering flames below the cauldron. Kneeling, he added more fuel until the fire was a roar. Gluttonous flames licked out and pawed at the underbelly of the cauldron like tiny claws trying to reach the food within. Satisfied, he added one more long to abate the hunger of the fire and keep the food hot. With that done, he stood straight again, eye to eye with the displeased, enraged exile.

"Little John was just trying to make sure you weren't up to anything dastardly while we were all asleep," he informed her easily as though his explanation would soothe everything. The archer dipped his head towards the bubbling food in order to hide a mischievous smile. "Besides, he said he was having trouble getting to sleep. Your snoring was keeping him awake."

"That… you let that… I do not snore and you let that… that… ugly, filthy, barbarous, smelly…. Thing near me!" sputtered Regina, her voice an icy hiss. Eyes ablaze, if looks could have killed, the notorious Hood would have been no more than an ash stain on the forest floor.

Little John grunted. "Hey now, you don't smell like a field of roses," he retorted offended.

"That's enough," Hood broke in, his voice firm as he worked. Long wooden ladle in one hand, the archer lazily stirred the bubbling concoction.

Sniffing indignantly, Regina perched her head up. Haughtiness gleamed in her umber eyes. "Finally some sense." Hands at her side she looked the picture of a queen slighted.

If he condemned his bear then perhaps there was hope.

"I'm glad you agree." Robin stirred the pot again and smiled. "It's wrong to call poor Little John names."

Mouth agape, Regina blinked at him. Words began to sputter from her lips but she shook her head. "Joy, I'm in the camp of mad men." She frowned blandly as though she wasn't even surprised.

"You know the way out." The hulking John grumpily got to his feet. Scratching his belly he lumbered off into the woods to perform his morning ablutions.

Indignant, Regina's visage turned frosty. "A year ago I would have put him in the stocks for such an insult. For getting in breathing distance of me!"

Robin chuckled as he added some dried blueberries to the oats and the steaming water. "You couldn't have held him, majesty. He is as strong as he looks." Before she could retort, the archer banged the wooden lade on the edge of the cauldron. A raucous clang of wood and metal rang out luridly through the camp like an alarm. "Breakfast gentleman! Come and get it!"

Like a war horn, his words prodded the camp to life. Men appeared like wild flowers after a shower. They dropped from posts in the trees and from the thicket curtains of the woodland realms where the woods cloaked them. Scrambling from tents and hoping from the trees they descend and gathered around like metal shavings to a magnet.

Tuck waddled up with old brown wooden bowls and spoons in his hands. One by one he gave the scant few men bowls. As he came nearer to the cauldron, he stopped at the former witch.

Suspicion and distrust danced in his wise eyes and he held the bowl as though uncertain to pass her over.

"Yes, Tuck," Robin sighed from behind the fat novice. "Her as well."

With a crotchety grunt, the wise man handled the ex-queen a bowl. "Here," coarseness laced his sagacious tone.

"A little un-giving for a holy man," Regina explicated dryly and snatched the bowl from him. Her brown eyes offered challenge and hate towards the fat novice.

Tuck coughed and pretended not to be intimidated by her glare. With a quick turn he waddled to Robin with the last bowl. "Even the kindest creatures know to show no mercy to a snake," returned the holy man, his voice soft and accusing even in serenity.

"Now, now," Robin lowly admonished them both before they could go further, "breakfast has always been a happy time around our camp even in hardship. Let's not spoil that, lads." Taking the first bowl he ladled a fair mixture of oatmeal in and handed the steaming goop to a merry man.

Little John stomped behind the archer and gave a nod of agreement. "Robin's right. We're better than letting one dark cloud spoil the day." His eyes found Regina's which only mirrored his disdain.

"Thank you Little John." Satisfied that he at least one on his side, he handed the bear his own bowl; he looked at the few fellows of the camp with an easy smile. "Now let's eat before it gets cold."

A murmur of hungry satisfaction arouse from the rowdy men. Nods came from a few while a few others still scowled but consented in their eagerness for breakfast. Their stomachs seemed to listen more than their common sense. With breakfast tempting their bellies they wouldn't argue about the witch in their midst's… yet.

Cold and calm Regina stood like an oak unmoved by the sea of hungry, filthy men all gathering about the cauldron like bees in a field of wildflowers. Disdain etched her face in sharp lines that spoke of her undisguised disgust. Every eye that met hers was returned with a haughty, crisp glare as cold as the winters breath and one by one they all dropped their eyes.

Too dignified to scramble for food as they did, she waited until the last brute of them was served. A cool, imperious touch lined her face as the last man was given breakfast. The fellow scuttled away with his hot bowl to a cluster of stumps where the others had gathered to eat.

Laughter and boisterous, coarse talk echoed raucously from their little huddle of stumps, but Regina ignored them; still the queen unfortunately in the mire of peasants.

Stepping forward with only Robin there before her, she coolly handed him the bowl as though he was a servant who had given her something distasteful. "Your men have the manners of swine," she declared frostily, her voice thick with copious disgust at them.

"Better to have the manner of pigs with a meal than to have the landed manners of a queen with nothing on her plate," the bandit retorted cheekily. Looking up, he smiled at her with the same sly smirk though there was no hurtful mocking in the gesture. Indeed, even when he landed a blow with his words his smile, his voice, never seemed willingly want to hurt.

A scowl penciled Regina's mouth, her face barely hiding a visage of anger. "You are insufferable, backwoodsman," she snorted, her eyes burning with hatred.

How she hated when he made a point. He was not afraid to take his words to the root of the matter and cut away any squabbling. Like a gardener he cut at the base, always taking her feet from under her without even letting her get a few good cuts in before she fell flat.

Heart aflame in rage she held her hand out over the cauldron. "Just give me the meal," she gritted between her teeth.

"Not just yet, your majesty," he denied evenly and kept the bowl away. "The first meal was charity," Robin explained lightly. He held the bowl of steaming oats right out of her reach but close enough for her to smell. "This one you earn."

Regina simmered inside. A looked of indignation crossed her features. Hands curled up by her sides she glared with the power of an icy glacier at his brazenness. "You dare tell me, a queen, such a thing?"

"I'm very daring you know," he teased, and wiggled his eye brows, only adding to her fury. "If you want breakfast then I'll take you back to the river where you'll clean the cauldron out and bring it back."

Regina's nostrils flared almost as though smoke was to billow out. Jaw set in a vice, she breathed out firmly, "You're incorrigible."

"Is that a yes or a no?" Hood perched a brow curiously.

Eyes flickering down to the bowl then back to the man Regina scoffed. Her lips twisted into a sneer as she stood up. "To actually think I would just shows how barbarous and cut off you are."

"Still not a yes or no," Robin pointed out perceptively, his voice hemmed with knowing and teasing.

Like lightening, Regina struck with the swiftness of a viper. Her right hand slashed through the air and came into stinging contact with the archer's right cheek. Pain burned in her palm with such a strike but she kept her face poised with the cool cut of anger.

A hint of fear sprang to her heart at such an action, but just to wipe that smile of his face was worth any unpleasantness. Of course she was in the woods with a bunch of who-knew-what's and she had just assaulted their leader, but really, what did that matter to her now?

"That heartless, w-," Allan cried, piqued with outrage but Robin waved his hand, staying the man and the others.

If they let their rage fly there was a good chance they would have a murder on their hands. Already, they had no like for Regina. Guilt would not wring one heart if she was slain for her action.

"You ungrateful-," Hood growled and touched his face, as he turn back to the woman. A frigid smile adorned her face as though it was cracked from the center of an iceberg. Stymieing his anger, the roguish archer soothed himself. Eye and cheek burning alike he spoke calmly to her, though anger flew just beneath the surface. "Do that again, _majesty_, and I will drum you out of this camp quicker than you can blink. And as for your answer, I'll simply take a yes of nor if the cauldron is clean or not. I'm going to get my son up now." He pulled the bowl to his side. "And I am taking this with me. You know your options."

Smile gone, she snarled at the man. She had been preparing for the worst but nothing of the sort came. Why had he not lost his temper, why had he not yelled back at her? Why was he being so… agreeable? "That cauldron will remain dirty till kingdom come do you hear me, you little bug, till the end of time!"

Steel glinted in her eyes as her chocolate orbs followed the archer to his tent. Her gaze burned into his back, but he remained calm and collected.

As he disappeared, the witch weighed he options. The rest of the cauldron was half filled, she could have just dipped the ladle in, but she doubted the men in their little breakfast huddle would have let her get away with that.

Snorting imperiously, the former queen turned on her heel. Head high she ignored the glaring men and set on the outskirts of camp again. Being there was foolish, she knew, but sitting there was better than smelling a hot meal or dealing with their murderous glances.

Arms crossed, the witch sat with her back against the same tree. A frown penned her face as she stared off into the wood lands. "Wash cauldrons? Me? He's a fool. I'm not. I will never!"

But then again, her reason crept out of the corners from the fastidious bastion of her pride; there was a meal as good as hers. What were a few chores for some hot food? No! She admonished herself sharply. Robin Hood could go drown himself. She would not stoop so low!

As if on cue, a lonesome growl rumbled from her stomach. Wincing at the sound, Regina sighed aloud, the noise softer than a whisper. Maybe not where they all could see she wouldn't sink so low, but perhaps for another few meal she could… just a few.

~8~8~

A determined hiss snapped from Regina's lips as she made slow headway through the forest. Half bent over she slowly rolled the cauldron, when her arms hurt to lift the thing, through the uneven terrain. On its side the fat cast iron cauldrons looked akin to a misshaped wheel the former witch rolled along; accept a wheel would have probably fared better.

Grimacing darkly the witch shoved the pot over the soggy ground. A thick oak root, one of many, impeded her path and she pushed harder. With a bump the pot bellied cauldron rounded over the gnarled root and onward to what the ex-queen determined was the way of this stream.

Lips worked in a determined smile, the witch reveled only mildly in her small success. That was one less root to go through. Languidly wiping the dirt and grime from her hands on the side of her dress, the woman began to roll the cauldron again.

Sneaking the cauldron away hadn't been the most difficult thing in the realms. Everyone was away to gather wood, hone weapons, or whatever crazy backwoodsman did in a days work. Robin was with his son probably teaching him how to be a crazy backwoodsman himself. Like he claimed the pot was there, grimy and untouched with bubbled over streaks of oatmeal staining down the sides and crusted on the rim. The cauldron hadn't seen a fairly good clean in a while.

Desperately, clinging to the cliff of her pride, Regina had abstained all she could. She fought to prove she was above taking orders from a backwoodsman, but hers stomachs insentience was not to be denied. Her belly still recalled the meal of the night and her mind was loathed to skip another meal just to salve her heart.

Curses softly fled Regina's lips and as pushed the heavy cauldron again. Lividness sparked an ember in her chest. Hunger had gotten the better of her. So there she was, rolling the cauldron to the stream.

"I can honestly say this is the strangest thing I have ever come across in the forest," Robin Hood revealed in an easy manner.

Sliding beside her as though he was a phantom choosing to appear, he looked from queen to cauldron. Hands behind his back, weapon slung over a shoulder, the archer studied them. Genuine confusion and humor knit his brow as he fell into step with her. Unlike the witch, his feet barely made a sound over twigs and leaves.

A curse towards the man nearly fell from her mouth but she abstained and chose to focus on her task. Of all things why did he have to appear at the worst time, grating upon her? Could he not see she was trying to meet him halfway and simply let her be?

Regina rolled her eyes and gave the cauldron another push. "If I am going to have a meal served out of this thing I at least want it adequate."

"Yes, yes," Hood agreed in a teasing sagacious tone, his mocking mannerism akin wisely scholar, "but why are you taking it to the stream and not bringing a bucket to the cauldron?"

Shoving the cauldron again, this time easily over a root, she ignored looking up at him and focusing on her task. "I didn't see a bucket."

"That's because Little John was using them to pick berries. All you had to do was find one of my merry men and they could have acquired one for you." The archer nimbly steeped over the obstacles the cauldron incurred.

Teeth clenched, the witch doggedly attempted to squelch and smother the growing anger that swirled in a conflagration in her heart. "You intolerable idiot!" she snapped out furiously. With each push she extenuated every word. "Can't. You. See. I. Didn't. Want. To. Do. It. In. Your. Pathetic. Measly. Cam…" She got no further as the cauldron suddenly got away from her.

The forest began a steady declined she had not even registered before the fact was already in action. Like a mischievous devil gravity took care of what her strength could not.

Small roots, twigs, and saplings broke beneath the unstoppable roll of the great cauldron. In moments the old pot turned into a runaway boulder down the hillock. Rapidly rolling over the earth, the metal bumped over jutting rocks and snapped vines like twine. Bark upon trees spat off in thin pamphlets as the cauldron clipped the trunks on the journey down leaving gaps of pale trunk.

Eyes wide in shock, Regina could only watch the disastrous tumbled of the pot. One hand curled over the collar of her tattered gown as though trying to hold at bay a cry of alarm from her very breast.

Down and down the cauldron tumbled before their eyes. Craters formed where the pot declined in it bouncing roll. Birds flew in a panic from the tangle brush as the cauldron crashed through. Like a rampaging giant, the cauldron broke through the veil of the forest line. Stone crunched in its lumbering roll, rock rasping against metal, before the pot landed in the swift moving waters.

A geyser of water splashed up from the burbling waters before settling quicker than the time the cauldron had taken on the disastrous course. Tumble caught short, the cauldron stood invisible in the deepest part of the flow.

Utter silence rebound between the two as they stood upon the apex of the knoll and looked down upon the plain path. The cauldron was gone, deep into the water, probably irretrievable.

"Well…," Robin broke the silence first. He dipped his head a bit at the track the cauldron had left as though uncertain what to feel. "That's… we no longer have a cauldron."

Part of him did not know where her to laugh or harangue her. In the course of half a morning she had managed to strike him and successfully get rid of a massive cauldron in record time.

Frown forming Regina's face, the witch quickly hid her shock behind an icy veil. Clearing her throat auspiciously, she glared done her nose at the water and the trail. "Good. Perhaps that will teach you not to tell me to do anything."

"Must you keep that sense of grandiose entitlement and righteous fury so close, majesty?" Robin turned to her swiftly, his face a picture of stifled anger and annoyance. "You have just ruined one of my camps biggest assets. A sorry would be nice seeing as I have to find a new cauldron."

At once Regina turned to him, her eyes fire and ice all at once. "I don't apologize, backwoodsman. You'll get nothing from me."

Eyes locked together, the archer tried to stare her down but only met with a wall that could never be so directly battered. In the border of her pupils he could espy embarrassment, stubbornness, a will to conceal her wrong, and he felt his heart soften a touch. Perhaps her cold, noble sense was how she handled things she otherwise could not grasp.

Anger that railed his heart wished to erupt from him, but his thoughts kept the will to scream at her smothered. How he wished to yell and argue and berate but what good would that accomplish? She had nothing. She couldn't pay for the cauldron and she certainly wasn't going to admit her blunder.

Large sigh falling from his lips, the bandit looked away from the witch and back the way to camp. Face softened, he began to thread his way through the woods the way he had come. "There's nothing we can do about it now. Come on then, back to camp, it's lunch time."

"Lunch time?" Regina echoed in a dry scoff, her face torn between being offended and surprised. Was he trying to mock her? To punish her with the hypnotic scents and aromas and sights of food that would not fill her belly?

The wily archer nodded and stepped through the oh so obvious track she had left. "Yes, lunch. Allan caught a doe. We'll eat well this evening and tonight."

"We?" her voice was hemmed with incredulity.

Shoulders slumping, the archer seemed to be letting some inward struggle free. "Yes, we. Us. You."

Confusion wrinkled the woman's constant calm and stalwart visage. What mind games was he up to? "I didn't do any work," she pointed out mildly. Not only that, she had ruined a cauldron. Who would feed her then?

"If you want to get technical you did in fact clean out the cauldron," he remarked with a tinge of his returning good humor. "Very creatively, and detrimentally but you did."

Argument surged up like gorge in Regina's throat. Her desire to sting back and question him burned her inwardly, but she forced her amazement back down. If he still wanted to feed her so be the case. Even if he wanted just to poison her, she really couldn't have gotten worse.

She shrugged as they slowly ambled back to camp. "I'm not going to argue about that then, if you're insistent."

"Not argue?" he jested, feigning mock shock. "My this is astounding. I thought for certain than little accident would have been my fault."

A smirk softly twitched upon Regina's features but she curtailed a true smile. How could he stand to bandy jokes with her, the evil queen, after what she had just done? How was he not screaming at her or chasing her away?

Eyes half lidded, she cast a clandestine glance to the man on her right. Her eyes scanned him again as she had done on first sight of the archer, but with no hostility. He was strange this Robin Hood. "Sorry." The word came abruptly like a spur of the moment thing. For a moment the witch didn't even know she had said such until her mind caught up with her mouth.

"I thought you didn't say sorry?" Hood smiled wanly to hide his surprise. The word nearly rocked him back. He hadn't expected a sorry, especially not since she seemed to hate him. Why would she cast that down for him?

Regina snorted softly, her demeanor hiding the confusion in her own heart. "Normally no. But this was not a normal circumstance."

Why she had given apology to him she couldn't decipher, but she had. Despite her distaste for apologies inwardly she marveled. Snow White hadn't even gotten a sorry yet, nor would she ever, yet here she was handing one to a man she could barely stand.

Silence reigned between the pair as they walked back to camp. Each held their private thoughts close through coppice and grove and the verdant tangle that webbed the woods. Much like the forests, they stumbled through an intrepid detail of contemplations inside their minds about the other. They stepped through the thicket of thoughts just as they did the outward woods except with less certainty.

Who exactly was this Robin Hood?

Who precisely was Queen Regina?

"We're close your majesty," grunted Robin as they walked under a bower of hickory limbs knot together from two separate trees.

Pausing behind him, the witch adopted a cold, unreadable face. The thoughts that had plagued her in their trip through the woods all coagulated and coalesced into a definable, opaque picture in her mind. Everything came with a price, of that she had learned very well. What was her price for losing the cauldron?

"You're going to humiliate me now?" the queen queried though the words came out more like a known fact. That must have been what he was aiming for. Why would he be so calm towards her if that was not the case? He was only getting her to come back to proclaim how inept she was, how sneaky she had tried to be but only ended up being the fool. That had to be why.

The archer arched a brow. His lips pulled to the left in an indefinable area between smirk and a grisly line. "Is that what you've been thinking of?"

"The thought crossed my mind, yes," Regina admitted hesitantly. "I did lose your cauldron. They will ask and you're too noble to lie."

He gave her a curious look. "Too noble? How do you figure that?" A muscle in his jaw twitched as though he had to subdue a smile.

"I'm good at pegging people, backwoodsman." A soft, gust of mirthless, dry laughter huffed past her lips. She looked away into the woods, unable to hide the sorrow upon her visage. "It's about the only one true skill I have."

Shaking his head the bandit entered the glade. The brush rustled with his passing and with a sigh Regina followed. Maybe she was wrong. Perhaps he was going to lie and let the matter be.

"There you are, Robin!" John hailed from the center of the camp. His large smile fell when he saw Regina following, but he focused his attention on the leader of the band. "Your boy found some tubers and Tuck foraged up some wild parsley and potatoes. We were thinking of making a nice venison stew."

"Alas my friends I'm afraid that cannot be." With a shake of his head the archer padded up to his men. Shoulders squared, his manner easy, he kept his voice light as he broke the news to them. "We no longer have a cauldron."

Eyes puckered suspiciously, the hulk of a man looked from Robin to Regina. "How do you lose a cauldron?" his voice rumbled displeasure.

"Accidental circumstances," replied the archer. He barely contained a wince but kept himself even. "Best you don't know the details friends."

Allan pointed an accusatory hand at Regina, his ugly face contorted in anger. "She did something didn't she? Out of spite! This is all her fault! We should run her off!"

Roars of assent blustered through the camp like angry thunder. Men let hands drop to their sword and scowls found their way to her.

The will to take a step back shivered through Regina but she held her ground. Eyes hard she stared at them all the way she would have when she had held her magic. They'd have never done that if she even had a trace of her powers.

"No, no! We're not driving anyone off!" Robin intercepted. "I'll find someway to get us another, soon! I've never driven off anyone from this camp and I won't start now. We've all made mistakes and we've never even joked about running each other off. We're better than that, men." He motioned to Tuck. "Tuck, you start cooking and break out a cask of that good wine. _All _of us will eat and things will simmer down."

Cold glares met Robin, but the bandit held his ground. He was a rock when he stood by his principles and one by one their eyes fell, their anger breaking against his sheer will.

Grumbling, Tuck began to go about as instructed and the camp began to disperse.

Slowly, almost cautious, Regina walked in camp. Her muscles were tight as though she was preparing for a run. In fact, she had been banking on being chased away but there she stood, still in the camp. Hated more than ever, but there.

Sitting by the fire, she cast a queer look at the outlaw before turning her gaze to the fire and ignoring the growling men.

A sigh of relief fled Robin's lips but lasted only a moment before John lumbered forward.

John's hand curled like a paw over Robin's upper arm and he dragged the rogue away from the fire. All but lugging the lanky Hood, the hulk of a man stopped in a shady, faraway spot in the camp for what modicum of privacy they could.

Towering over the archer, John glared down at his long time friend. His bearded lips furrowed into a grimace and he stared duplicitously at the outlaw as though he had lost his mind. "Why is she staying, Robin!" Little John hissed fiercely to his accomplice. What in all the realms could possess the notorious outlaw to take in one of those who he had once fought against?

Combing a hand through his short hair, the archer gave a torn glare to the hulk. "She managed to lose a thirty pound cauldron, John!" he whispered sharply to his ally. "She doesn't know the first thing about forest life and that's the problem. She needs to learn or I give her another month, at most, before all she'll be is a corpse on the forest floor."

"Not our problem." John placed a heavy hand on his friends shoulder. "Some people you just shouldn't help."

Hood shook his head. "You know I can't do that, Little John. Once I have a compulsion… once my honor is awakened…."

Staring angrily into the archers eyes, the brute looked like he was about to hit the outlaw. Slowly, the fury receded from the forefront of his features in knowing. They had been down the same road to many times, though not with anyone so deplorable.

"I know, Robin. You do what you think is right," sighed Little John, knowing his friend all too well. Shoulders slumping in defeat the bear of a man pouted a bit. He knew his friend to well to know when arguing was futile. There was no use being angry at his friend when he was dead set on a course. Nothing could dissuade him. He would simply have to learn what was to come out of the disastrous plan to allow her to stay and hope no one got hurt.

Shaking a finger scathingly at the archer, Little John frowned darkly. "I knew that noble streak was going to get you in trouble."

"So did I, John," Hood agreed dourly, his doubt of his own decision displayed before his friend.

Surreptitiously casting a glance Regina's way, he watched her staring into the flames with a troubled look and sighed to match his friends. What trouble _had_ he gotten into?


	5. Learning

Dawn came much less gloriously than the previous one the day had painted upon the world. The sky above was a cream colored hue sullen with flotillas of thick curdled clouds that slumped crossly across the sky. Shadows reigned despotically even in the morn about the woods and what once was a paradise twisted into an ominous wilderness thick with miasma of gnats and insects. Humidity smothered and dampened through the air, turning the cool forest into a mockery of a far away jungle. The air was stifling to breathe and the rich scents of the forest rose up to clog all that tread the forest realm with the thick, rich scents of dirt and decomposition.

A shiny black beetle scurried importantly on a leaf in front of Regina, but she barely took notice of the glossy shelled insect. Sitting before the ashes of the previous day's fire, the witch watched the trails of smoke ribbon glumly through the moist air. Dour thoughtfulness traced her dirty features with lines of abject misery as her eyes followed the smoke lines. Her brown orbs looked far away as though enmeshed in another place entirely. She appeared like a woman deep back in time to moments long before her forest reckoning.

Left hand supporting her like a crutch to keep her aright, she stared nearly unblinking glum into the most gray char. She looked as thought the fire pit was another place in time though only to be viewed and not relived.

Robin sighed as he observed her from a distant part of camp. Indecision molded his face as he stood there to study her from afar. His lips formed into a tight, uncertain line like a waxed bowstring. Arrow in his right hand, he tapped the hickory shaft against his left palm in a steady tattoo. Toying with his weapons always helped him clear his mind, and that was something desperately needed with the change that had occurred so quickly.

Perhaps his thoughts were a bad idea, he entertained uncertainly. Perhaps his men were right. There was so much bad there in her, so much stubbornness, but so much loneliness and unknowing as well. She was the evil queen, true, but she was also a person, a lonely, sad person.

The others in his camp couldn't see that and for the life of him he could not tell why. Did they not see the sadness in her chestnut eyes, the agonizing dip her lips made that cried out morose from a battered heart? Could they not divine the misery always swarming below the surface?

Was he the only one to see she needed help?

Shaking his head to dislodge such abhorrent thoughts, he jerked the notion away like a barb lodged in his heart. Studiously the archer squared himself. With a stern will he forced the contemplations back. No time for them now. A determined look set in his eagle eyes. He had already determined to himself what was to be done.

Boots silent over the terrain, he crept like a wild cat's shadow towards the woman. Crossing his arms, he sighed and looked from the fire to the ex-queen. "Morning, Majesty."

Silence came as the only reply from the witch. Face undecipherable, she stared still into the rail thin trails of milky smoke the ashes gave off.

So she wasn't speaking? He cursed inwardly at the new hurdle she had so fastidiously erected. Perfect. Exhaling slowly, he licked his lips and tried a different approach. "The lads will be waking in an hour or so. We should get a fire started before then," he suggested calmly with a thoughtful air. Uncrossing his arms he pulled out a small knife at his belt, a smooth gray stone, and a wad of dry downy from an old nest. Will you do the honors?" he tested, his mind trying to prod into hers to see what knowledge she held.

"I don't know how to build a fire," Regina replied simply. Her lips pursed shrewdly as though she was speaking to him just so he wouldn't continue his brutal annoyance.

Progress! A sigh nearly fell from the archers lips at the admission. Smiling lightly he knelt down. "Well it's really quite easy once you get the hang of it, majesty. You just need a flint and some tinder and some pati-."

"When are you going to drive me off?" Regina asked suddenly, her voice devoid of emotion.

Of course that was where this would all lead, she surmised grimly. With so much pull against her there was no way his fortitude would stand so long. At some time or another he would drive her away. Best to at least know in advance for when that day arrived.

Words trailing, the archer perched a brow. Had his men been doing things behind his back to make her think so? "I'm sorry?" he returned, his voice confused.

"When are you going to drive me off?" she queried blandly without looking to him. Visage chiseled to courtly coolness, she seemed the very statue of nobility, a woman too worthy to even look down upon common rabble. "That's what you were deliberating over there wasn't it not?"

Surely with all his men's disapproval he would not keep up his stalwart stance on her presence there for long. They would worm into his head and their whispers would swarm his mind and then he would have no choice but to have her driven off.

Squatting beside her, he let the knife tip sink into the moist ground. "You don't know much about forest living. To drive you off would be a death sentence." For spirit sake she didn't even know how to build a fire!

"I've made do." Regina sniffed imperiously, her normal nature flowing back into her from the lugubrious, silent ash watcher she was but moments before.

Robin nodded, refusing to argue that flawed point. "While that may be so, majesty, if my time is correct, you've lived through a prosperous summer only. You've known warm rain and mild nights mostly. You've walked through a forest teeming with things awaiting to be plucked and have struggled while we live as kings in our own way," his voice held no hint of unknowing or joviality. "By the autumn I would think a talisman of luck was upon you if you survived. By winter you would be dead. That is not a theory but a fact."

Shaking his head, he let a small laugh slip by. "You did peg me right, milady. I cannot drive you off yet. I cannot let you wander ignorantly about the woods awaiting your time with death. If you wish to be stubborn leave then, but you know and I know, if you do you will die by winter."

He was right. Deep in her heart she knew every word was truth. Her exile was in all a prolonged recital in grievous honor to death that would end with the crowing final sympathy when her breath stilled at last.

A death, cold and alone, with no one to mourn over her unmarked grave of old leaves was the fate given to her no matter how they had trussed up and adorned the grim sentence. They all knew what they called 'exile' was but a prettied word for a tortuous demise. They had allotted her only a faint sliver of chance to survive just to say they had.

Oh but what did her survival matter? She had neither Henry nor magic nor purpose in which to drive her onwards everyday. Some days when her lids opened she found herself surprised. Why did she rise every morning anyway, letting her blood pump and her limbs to move her forward to aimless worthlessness? What was the point of scavenging one meal to simply make way to the next in one endless loop?

"I know that look," Robin pointed out gently. He had seen the film of uncaring and wondering webbed on many a disheartened wanderer of the woods or refugee. "You're wondering why it even matters." He spoke as though reading the words inked on her heart. "But it does. Somewhere you are holding on for something or the vultures and the wolves would have had you months ago. I won't press for what, but I know that something is there. For the sake of that something, that one thing, at least decided to heed me."

Silence resounded from the witch for a long moment. Striking clearer than her words, her lack of reply spoke louder than a snippy comeback. Her chocolate eyes studied the ground before her in deep thought. Lips formed into a thin, tight line, she looked as pale as a corpse and as mute as one.

Stubbornness. She was the epitome, the incarnation of stubbornness, the patron deity of refusal! Shaking his head, the archer sighed darkly at his luck. Slowly he began to rise. If she wished to die that was her own…

"So what do you suggest?" Regina inquired coolly, her voice low and tactile.

Perhaps not so stubborn, he amended inwardly to his ire. A small smirk quirked at his mouth as he knelt beside her. "First." He held the knife out to her. "I'd learn how to build a decent fire."

Eyes drifting down to the knife, her lips twisted into a thoughtful line. With a slight twist to the right she turned to him. Her features did not exude the high hostile levels of ingratitude and haughty but more of a ripple of decision. "Alright." She nodded faintly, as though inwardly conceding something. "Show me."

Like an infection the smirk spread to a full grown smile upon Robin's lips but he subdued the upturn of his mouth. Studiously clearing his throat he turned to the lesson. "It really is simple. Just basic flint and tinder." Knife in the left hand, stone in the right, he used his thumb to make a small indentation in the dry, flammable nest material. "Now all you want to do is strike stone to metal so that you get sparks. You're hoping a spark will catch the dry tinder," he explained.

Taking the stone, he clacked the rounded edge against the knife. Bright orange sparks spewed out from the strike in angry reply. They landed upon the tufts of nesting like falling stars before they faded into the gray strands. Striking again and again he spoke as he tried to ignite the tender. "After the spark is struck you simply blow gently on the ember to coax it to life."

As if on cue, the last strike seemed to prove his point. A small ember hung in the midst of the nesting like some stubborn child. The small dot of brightness seemed a single star in the false dawn of morning, petulantly refusing to disappear. A nearly unseen glow radiated from the ember akin to a beacon that beckoned warmth and hope.

Lowering himself the archer blew gently on the ember. Gray smoke rose thinly from the bundle and in a moment a true flame guttered into light. The single flame danced hesitantly in the humid dawn like a child first learning to walk. Little by little the flames began to devour the nesting in which the biting fangs had been nursed. Slowly the fire began to spread its power and heat, engulfing the nesting.

Quickly, the bandit placed the flame in the old ashes. Gathering other small flammable things he tossed them in then a decent log or two until the blaze bickered merrily.

"See majesty." He cast her a cheeky roguish grin and placed a hand ones thigh. "Not so difficult."

"For someone who's had plenty of practice," Regina refuted astutely. Lips curled into a self deprecating smile she stared at the blaze he had so easily mastered in a few sharp clicks. Did he think this would come so easy to one as she?

Heaving his shoulders in a shrug the archer held out the components to make the fire. "Well, majesty you never know unless you try. I promise fire making is no difficult chore."

Distrust flared in Regina's eyes but she said nothing. He was right in a sense. She did need to learn such things, but did she really want him to the the teacher? She was a dilettante, but did she wish him to see her blunders? But then, who would teach her if she passed the crazy Backwoodsman?

Slowly, the witch extended her hand and took the tools of fire making. Moving into a kneeling position, the witch looked at the components with chagrin. Fire would have literally been a snap had she possessed magic.

Light from the newly coaxed fire shimmered a red-orange tint upon the steel knife as though with the promise of heat to whoever wielded the knife. Setting down the tinder the way he had shown, she placed the knife down and struck the steel with the stone. A discordant clack rapped through the air but no sparks flew. Jaw clenched the witch struck the knife again, her force coming down harder. A few birds fluttered away from a nearby bramble at the noise but not a spark spewed from the contact.

Irked, the witch struck again. Anger burned bright than the fire pit in Regina's heart with each unsuccessful strike. Failure was one thing she could barely tolerate. Determination beamed in her glassy umber eyes and she struck again. Pain erupted in her hand as she scraped her knuckles carelessly upon the hilt but she didn't care. Why couldn't she do something so simple?

Again and again she slammed the stone to steel and again and again failing.

Could she not even do one small task the simplest of backwoodsman could do? Was she so inept at every art, the most mundane eluded her?

Rage stoked her heart with each failure and finally she snapped. With one last dead hit, the witch gave in. A growl spurted from her lips and she tossed the knife and stone unto the tender. The springy fabric supported the useless tools in a mocking bundle right before her.

Surly, she spun her head to the archer. "I can't do it," she spat angrily, her heart fuming and stoked with the intense heat of shame. Embarrassment belched the smoke from the forges of her heart that powered her rage.

"Of you can, believe me." He scooted closer to her. "The problem is majesty how you strike the steel," he explained and picked up knife and stone. Holding them up, he emphasized them to her. "You see the spark doesn't come from how hard you hit. The spark comes from the angle. Strike at the right angle, a glancing blow almost and you will have a shower of sparks." He held them out to her. "Here. Try again."

Incredulity marbled Regina's features. "At an angle?" her calm voice hinted uncertainty.

"See for yourself," Hood returned, his shoulder heaving in a shrug.

Taking the tools again, the witch turned back to the tinder. Concentration like she was about to cast a spell lined her visage. An angle. An angle. Inhaling sharply the witch clacked stone to steel. At once a barrage of orange sparks tossed from the contact. They landed like falling stars upon the tinder and one glowed deep in the nesting. Overjoyed, Regina solely puffed of the tiny spark. A trail of smoke slithered out before a new flame arose into the word.

A half smile hung upon Regina's face as she stared at the tiny flame. Sharply flickering her whiskey gaze up to the archer, she found his eyes staring at her success. His eyes, soft and brown glimmered in the light in a way the caught her eye like a moth to a flame. "I did it," she stammered in surprise and pleasure. She had actually done it.

Like sending off a flaming petal, the former monarch tossed it into the blaze lest she burn her hand. "I did it," the ex-queen repeated as though she still couldn't fathom her success.

"Indeed you did, majesty," Robin congratulated heartily. Unthinkingly he slapped a hand to her shoulder blade. "Well done."

Immediately Regina tensed at his touch. Her muscles went rigid as though she were in peril of being struck by a snake. Fluttering spasms palpitated her heart in a discordant beat. Though his eyes were like pools of whiskey ignited with fire, his touch, his touch was like lightening.

Slowly, Robin came around to what he had done. Like a fool his eyes fell to his hand. His hand still remained on her shoulder. To touch her! Why had he done such a thing?

Clearing his throat the outlaw let his hand slide away. That had been a major mistake. "Well... Uh… you keep building the fire up and I'll start to gather the things for breakfast," the bandit informed her nervously. Rubbing his hands along his breeches as though wiping off his touch, he slowly stood. Eyes looking everywhere but at her, he stumbled for word. "Good job."

Turning away, he began to amble towards their supplies. Behind him, Regina stared back. Consternation wrinkled her face as she stared at him. Her eyes studied him with a loss gaze. Though he walked away she could still feel his hand that accosted upon her shoulder like a brand upon her body.

~8~8~

Miles and miles away from the dark glades of the forest expansive realm Regina wasn't the only one learning new things. In the realms governed by the Charming's life plodded on with others who needed to learn skills in the ways of the court.

Emma sighed as she stood in the stuffy counsel room of the palace. Marbled in brown and white, the place was akin to a sauna without the excessive steam. The massive spider veins windows the rounded the back of the room had been opened but did little to relieve the humidity and the room itself was stilling.

Heavy mahogany furniture filled the room in bulky, ostentatious chairs and a wide round table in the center. Thick tapestry that seemed to deny the heat escape hung on the walls and reeked with dust and time.

Another sigh pressed vehemently against her lips but she stifled them down like bad medicine. What she wouldn't have given for an air conditioner. But no, this was her life now. One in the enchanted realms where magic took the place of machine.

Wiping a hand on the back of her neck, the princess bit back her discomfort. She was in her homeland now with more pressing matters then the heat.

With a determined will the warrior focused on the people in the room to take her mind off of the heat. Red, the Blue fairy, the dwarves, Jiminy, and her parents all sat gathered in the room. In front of the table a man in humbled dark blue and gray peasant's clothes stood before them. His gnarled, bone worked, calloused hands twisted a thick, black woolen cap nervously.

Head bowed, he scuffled a bit, uncertain what to do. His eyes darted back and forth with trepidation and his face was haggard. Sweat clung to his brow, gluing strands of his brown hair stick to his features.

He was scared, Emma noted, more than scared, but what else she couldn't tell.

"So now that we're all here," Snow began serenely, her voice friendly and calm, "tell us again what you saw. You've no need to be nervous we're all friends here."

Bowing curtly and nodding all at the same time as though he was confused which was proper; he fought tenaciously through his fright to meet their eyes. Nervously, he licked his sweat stained lips and bowed again as though having finally deliberated an inward council to adhere with that mode of respect. "Thank you your highness. I never thought I'd be in the presence of the likes of you folk, but you're fair rulers and I wanted to tell you what I seen. I come from the eastern land, nearer the desert than anything else." His lips trembled a bit and he licked them again. "I was tilling my fields one day I was when I looked up into the sky. There was something dark there."

"Dark?" James interposed gently, his voice hemmed with confusion.

The man bobbed his head rapidly. "Aye. Dark. I thought it were some storm clouds. We could use a good shower, but it weren't. The cloud stretched over the entire horizon. It made me feel kind of queer like looking at it so I drops my plough and goes into the house. I tell my missus what I seen and she says I should go tell King James and Queen Snow what I seen. So that's what I done. Took me two weeks but that's what I done."

"Nothing else?" Snow queried gently as though she were trying not to spook a timid deer. Even after all they had done, how they had lived, how normally they treated their people, everyone still seemed to nervous about them.

The man tossed his head. "No highness. Nothing else."

"Could be the ogres again," James mused and stroked his chin thoughtfully. "That's where they retreated to when we finally managed to defeat them."

The fair Snow nodded delicately. "I was thinking the same. They're always cooking up something. Mostly failing. They never do get the courage to come back. It would be a long way to send an army only to have them turn around."

"It's always better to stay on the side of caution in these matters." Jiminy chirruped from his place on the table.

"I agree." Emma nodded briskly. Crossing her arms she leaned on a brown and white marbled pillar. "If these ogres were as bad as people still say better not leave anything up to chance."

A huff fell from the other side of the table. "Why not just send 'stilkskin," Grumpy suggested in the midst of their deliberation with a surly snort. "The ogres are still terrified of him."

Snow nodded hesitantly as though the idea was picking up steam in her mind. Laying a hand flat on the table she looked up at them all with a thin smile. "I think Grumpy has solved our problem."

"Gold?" Emma shook her head as though to banish the name from her mind. "I mean, Rumpelstiltskin? No one has heard from him since he and Belle got married and went back to the Dark Castle. They're probably still enjoying their… being weird together."

James sighed and stood up. The thick chair scraped loudly against the floor as he came to his feet, dictating the end of the meeting. "No help for it. He won't be happy but it'll be quick. Rumpelstiltskin hates the ogres as much as we worry about them returning. If he senses they are up to no good he'll stop them. I'm sure though that Snow is right and they're just trying to use bluster."

"If that's settled." Snow turned and smiled back at the man before them. "We thank you for the information. We know the trip wasn't easy and you will be just rewarded for your diligence… sir…?"

"Walsh." The man dipped very low. "My name is Walsh majesty."

~8~8~

A sense of lurid satisfaction bounded in Regina's steps as she walked through the thick forest land. Immense pleasure pulsed in her chest like a second heart that thudded alongside her dark aorta. A small smirk graced her lips as the feeling of success filled her. Fire. She had made fire. She had done something right.

Arms laden with sticks and branches, she picked up and jerked down wood for the fires. Robin had politely remarked, rather hinted auspiciously, the store was running low and she had demurely volunteered. In part she wished to thank him in not so many words for teaching her a new skill. Not many people would have bothered. The least he could do was gathered more sticks.

"Miss Regina what are you doing?" A tiny voice asked Regina from behind.

Hiding a flinch of surprise, the witch turned to the speaker. Her once pallid features fell into a neutral curtain atomically though there was no need. With this one, she felt no compunction to hide what lay in her heart.

Little Roland stood before her, his innocent, round face wide with unabashed curiosity. Thick brown hair sat in a shaggy mess about his head, nearly skirting his eyes. His normal stick sword was hanging in his hands and his cloak was up.

A sigh crossed Regina's lips and she hefted the bundle in her grip. "Roland what are you doing out here?" Did his father know he was so far away?

"I always wander out here to play," Roland replied, unintentionally answers her inward question. "I can always find my way back or paw paw can find me. He always finds me."

Hefting her bundle she spoke gently to the child. "Well then to answer your question I'm gathering more wood for the fire."

The lad scratched his thatch of brown hair in confusion. Climbing up on a fallen long he looked up at her, his head canted to the right. "I don't think you are."

Half a scoff, more teasing than anything fell from Regina's lips. Was he trying to play a game? Mouth curving into a smile she yanked down another stick. "I think I know how to gather wood, Roland." She may not have been a woodland expert but gathering wood was a simple chore, more than simple, the task was an idiot's job. Who couldn't gather wood!

Reaching out, the boy grabbed a struck from her pile. He weighed the stick in his hand before his little fingers went to work. Nails curled over the bark, he peeled away the outer brown layer revealed a greenish inside.

"Paw paw says you can't burn live wood. You need dry sticks from the ground and leaves and moss. Live wood doesn't burn very well and makes too much smoke. You'd smother a fire with this," he explained in his boyish way and held the thing out for her to see.

Blinking, Regina stared at the stick then to the boys and his words of wisdom. At once the satisfaction that dwelled in her dissipated as morning mist from the sun. A heavy boulder filled her chest and chained itself to her heart, dragging down her satisfaction. "Can you keep a secret, Roland?" she asked at length, her voice low to hide her shame.

Eagerly the lad nodded. His eyes gleamed with excitement for a new secret. "Yes Miss Regina."

With a sigh the woman let the bundle of sticks fall to the ground in a dull clatter. Success deflated out of her like a stuck balloon. She had been feeling so high only for an error so simple and stupid to snag her.

"You just saved me from looking like the biggest idiot in the forest," she praised gently. Tucking a lock of raven hair behind her ear, she shook her head lugubriously. Her lips drew into a sanguine frown. "I'm not very good at this. Would you show me the proper way?"

Asking a child for help was less difficult than asking a grown man. The boy only wished to be a good helper. To ask a child was no inhabitance.

Roland's eyes grew wide. "Really? You want me to help?" he sounded stunned. If a dragon had come to swoop him down he wouldn't have looked more surprised.

"Oh yes. These things require a smart, growing young man. I need help to show me the little things I trip up on." Gently, a smile began to form back upon her lips. Bending down so that she was face to face with the boy, she looked at him with the first open expression any in the camp had seen. "Will you help me?"

Nodding rapidly the boy leapt from the fallen trunk. Grasping her hand in his tiny one, he puffed out his chest and took on a serious look. Head high he pointed further into the forest. "I'll help just like my paw paw." He tugged her head. "I'll show you where to get all the best wood."

"Alright," Regina laughed faintly at the boy's antic. Involuntarily, her lips curved into a wider, softer smile. "Lead the way." She nudged her head and started after him calmly listening to his excited chatter about his wild imagination with bit of forest wisdom sprinkled in.

As they disappeared further into the thick wilds, Robin slipped from his camouflage behind a coppice of oaks. With his hood up, he had been all but invisible to them, allowing him to witness everything. Even the rare gentleness of a haughty, insufferable queen.

Kneeling, he picked up the stick his son had peeled. His thumb coasted along the soft inside thoughtfully. Head turned in the direction they had stalked off, a soft, confused smile came to his lips though he did not know why.


	6. Poisons

"I tell you it aint right, mates," a merry man named Simpkins spat angrily in a low, displeased whisper to his comrades.

The fellow was a discredit to his infamous kind. Short and blocky he seemed almost like a stump than a man. His hair was only thin wisps of gold that draped patchily over a mass of bald head. Nose angled at a slope, he appeared the most displeased bird in existence. Body worn by the sun, he nearly matched the shade of the trees and had a dark temperament to match.

From the beginning he was against Regina as were many of his fellows. Since then his ire was only allowed to boil and simmer until he had called the secret meeting betwixt only merry men.

Another grizzled voice from a much taller man grunted and nodded assent to the surly speaker. "Aye. What kind of sick game are we playing at by letting the witch who ordered her soldiers to hunt us and tormented her people come around here easy as you please? Justice was done when she was banished but here she is in our own camp! She has food, a fire, safety, for what lads? Is this punishment?"

All about the clustered woods a murmur of agreement shuddered up to the thick treetops. Surrounded in a thick pine grove the merry men all stood around with contemptuous anger. The lattice of dark green needles adumbrated them near invisibly in the shadowed glades of the Southern forest to hide them from those who should not have been in their camp.

The day above mirrored their discontent perfectly. A sheet of gray plainly adhered to the sky, leaving the blue firmament hidden in a shroud of ash. If the sky was any indication of their anger, then truly the heavens were on their side.

Grievances arose through the tangle of woods to the gray heavens as swamp gas did a morass. Each had their own ills to protest though they all revolved around the same inscrutable person in their midst - Regina.

Two weeks had gone by now and the witch still had not left. Robin, their venerable leader, had all but taken her in like she was just another normal, helpless soul in need. He didn't even treat her coolly or with the knowledge that she was unwanted scum in the midst of good folk. Instead he took to doling out advice and showing her actions in which to live a daily life in the forest.

She learned how to build a fire low and keep the smoke from billowing too thick, she learned how to make a proper camp and spy out the worst signs of dangers in a place before she bunked there, and she even learned how to put food up high to keep them from the scavenging forest animals. He was little by little dispensing their secrets to the woman whom most of their cause was against!

"Look, you know how Robin is," Little John defended weakly, his thunderous voice a piqued grumble of discontent as well. Arms crossed petulantly he leaned against a tree like a displeased brat. "Once something stuck in his craw he can't just leave be. We all know our Robin. When he sees the detriment, once he sees like the rest of us he'll drive her off soon enough. We can wait her out."

Simpkins scratched a dirty hand against his swarthy jaw. "Not soon enough. I tell you I've stuck with old Rob through thick and thin but this I can't do. If he doesn't turn her out soon I'm headed back to Nottingham!"

Beside him the tall man nodded determinedly. "The old is sounding good again now that the king has returned. I want to get back to baking not scrounging through the woods if she's going to be haunting them."

"Is that how you feel lads?" mildly asked the archer as he entered the little meeting. Silently as a shadow he slipped into their midst like a long dead specter of the woods. One moment all was right and the next he stood beside Little John as though he had been there all along. A leathery, brown quiver hung on his back but neither arrows nor his bow was in sight.

Muscles went rigid as Robin appeared in their presence. Eyes that once gleamed with joy narrowed suspiciously against their woodland leader. Jaw clenched tightly and fury simmered at a steady heat in their chests. They were not pleased with their leader. Not at all.

Unarmed and in his easy manner the lead bandit stared at them unthreateningly. Brow aloft, he gave all an equal stare without judgment or anger. Hurt punched a divide his heart, but he hid the effect of their deceitful behavior well. Part of their secretiveness was understandable, he knew, but to entertain clandestine meetings had never been their way. They had always come out with their ire openly even in the most dire of straights.

Had his actions truly turned them to dark talks hidden in the woods they reigned?

Simpkins voice piped up again. "Aye Robin that's how we feel. When are you going to get rid of her?"

"No time soon I'm afraid." He hooked a thumb under his belt in a subtle defiant pose. "Unless of course she decides to leave," added the archer with a kernel of hope for his displeased men. He couldn't please them all, but at least he could try to mollify them as much as possible.

Angrily, the broaching deserter jabbed a calloused finger at the outlaw. "If that's how you feel I'm going," Simpkins snarled wrathfully, his eyes ablaze with black anger born of the filthiest hatred.

"I never begrudged any that right," Robin retorted calmly, his face bereft of sadness or anger. "Nor can I begrudge someone who doesn't know our world a chance to at least carve out an existence as well, lads. Like you said, you can leave for Nottingham. She cannot. Like our lot once was when we were hunted, her life shall be spent roaming the woods."

The man who threatened desertion grumbled again, his leathery skin wrinkling into a multitude of lines. "That's what she deserves. Who are we to help her? I had family in the village east of king Leopold's palace. Do you know what she did to them? Slaughtered them all with magic all because they wouldn't give up Snow White. An uncle and an aunt and my mother, Robin. Gone!" Red faced like the bark of a sequoia and bellowing the man glared at the archer, his temper finally at eruption. "And I won't have no part of helping her, Robin I won't!"

Profanities spewing from his near invisible lips the man turned away to trudge through the woods. His tall assenter followed hesitantly, a shadow in the rage of the once merry man.

Grumbles either for or against the spectacle arose from the rest of the men at the sight. Slowly the all thinned away with their private thoughts and feelings leaving only Little John and Robin in the secret alcove.

A sigh oozed from the hulks lips. Shoulders slumping in defeat he shook his great, shaggy head. "Another two gone, Robin."

All because of the deposed queen they had lost another two to their already shrunken band. Was her presence worth the destruction of the merry men? Was her one life worth so much to someone who was not even entitled to look after her deplorable soul?

"I am sad to see them go, my friend." Lips pinched thinly he stared unhappily in their direction. "Perhaps this is what's best," he muttered sadly, his eyes pinioned to the path the two took.

Of course he was sad to see them leave, but he needed to help her. He felt that much in his heart screaming louder than any voice had ever called out. They had vowed to help those who could not help themselves. That had come with no clauses of vile witches or evil queens. All meant all… at least to him.

~8~8~

Things were looking up a bit in her tactile estimation, Regina concluded briskly in her mind. Though her life was still miserable and detestable, though she yearned to see her son every day of every hour, the new things she was tackling was helping her cope with her wants and torment that wracked her so.

Instead of old memories haunting so near her wounded heart, she could push them back with the thoughts of work and turned all her energies over to progress rather than drowning in her abject misery. Practice of new things dulled the sharp knife of pain that twisted in her heart. She could focus on something else rather than the gaping hole in her soul. Certainly there was more than enough forest knowledge to lose herself in to stay the pain for a brief amout of time.

So yes, while she hated where she was and who she was with, things were looking better from her view at rock bottom.

A soft sigh at the thought whispered across her lips. Throwing another stick unto the fire she let the small ray of light shine through the clouds of her heat. Abruptly a twig snapped to her right, chasing her contemplations away like frightened rabbits.

At ease, more than at ease, the witch refused to look. She toted her demeanor as still that of a queen who was not rocked by mere noises of bugs that scuttled about her. "You're late," she pointed our demurely, her head inching higher as though to scold the pulsing embers in the dying fire before her.

Half a constrained sigh crossed the outlaw's lips, but he forced down his sadness like a bad dose of medicine. Now was not the time to dwell on two of his men gone. Slapping his hands to the side of his thighs he produced a shrug. "Well. Here I am your majesty. I hope I haven't bungled your busy plans for this evening," a hint of bite came with his tone.

Two of his men were gone because of her and she had the nerve to still scold him like he was a tarrying servant. Guilt stung him like an arrow even after the thought left his mind. No, she didn't deserve his scorn or anger. There choices had been made. She was not to blame for their actions.

"Watch your tongue, backwoodsman," Regina chided sharply, her hackles risen from his wit. Something was pestering him, she ascertained by his strange snap and she had an idea of what.

Vapidly, like a disgruntled animal she settled into to her quiet, cold refinement again. With a quick decision she choose to pursue what most likely pestered him. "So how'd their little meeting go?" the ex-queen asked primly, her lips pursed shrewdly. Mirthlessness hinted at her voice. "Did they finally decide to be rid of me?"

That had to be why his ire was raised. Troubles had occurred in the meeting that he did not like. While she could not have cared less, or so she told herself, his troubles could pertain to her own.

Robin arched a brow but shrouded his surprise. What had given their surreptitious meeting away to her? But then again, he admonished, this was a queen. She was a clever one, for what she lacked in skills of yeomanry and woodsmanship she could make up for in other places. "How did you know?" He slowed his steps and approached her by her place at the fire.

A thin grim grin that brimmed with knowing split the witches face. "I've seen enough scuttling courtiers and nobles scurry around trying to hold secret counsels to know when one is about to take place." Her grin faded into a stark, thoughtful frown as the memories lashed her. Despondency and sadness faintly ghosted upon her stern visage. "They all have that same look of fear and hatred in their eyes," her voice was soft and flat. "I can see their anxiousness in their dilated pupils when I come around a corner unexpected, and feel the trepidation in their breath as they spill and babble their lies of innocence."

She had relished in those things once. Once she had glowed in their uncomfortable misery. Pride had once filled her to see those looks, to know they plotted in vain, yet alone she always dismayed at those stares that were filled with many things, but none good. Snow White was given looks of adoration and love, which was how she always knew the looks of those who deemed to betray her; because in the depths of her heart she knew them opposites, polar opposites, of the glances gifted upon her nemeses.

"A keen eye you have majesty," the bandit grunted approvingly to her perception. A heavy sigh fell past his frowning mouth as he pulled off his quiver and slowly sat down beside her. "Though the decision I made stands."

He wanted to tell her about the two men who departed, about the ridiculous sacrifices he made for her ungrateful hide, but she wouldn't have cared. She was still cold and perhaps would have praised, at the very least, felt envy they were leaving back to what was a normal life. Better she not know until maybe she realized two of his men were gone. If even then.

Haughtiness fell from Regina's lips in a mildly approving scoff. Her lips pressed into a grim smile as though his words were a right to her. "If that's the case then let's get to whatever's up your sleeve today."

"Gladly, majesty." He bobbed his head in reply, glad to have something to take his mind off two more departed. At least teaching took his mind off the more unpleasant things that boiled under him.

Dipping his hand into his quiver, he produced an oblong bundle of leather tucked in the arrow case. The packet was all light brown without decoration and wrapped tightly by a dark brown cord. Taking the leather bundle, the archer unloosed the cord and unrolled the packet on the trampled ground before them.

What lay before them was a wonderwork of a collection. Dried plants of different species sat wrapped in tight tiny compartment inside the bundle. Faded green spear like leaves sat next to pointed needles that lay near prickly fronds all mingled with various twigs clustered with berries of different hues.

Only one similarity bound them all - they were all extremely poisonous.

Rolling the leather flat, the archer began to explain the strange set. "You see when I first came to the woods some of my merry men were less that foresters. Some came from blacksmith families, tailor, bakers, men who worked in the shire and villages as good reputable fellows. They didn't know the plants of the deep woods so I tailored this thieves kit to put in plants that are extremely dangerous; a sort of compendium of poisons."

One man dying by eating a poisoned root had been enough for him to piece together the collection. He wanted no others to perish of foolishness in their struggle to outwit the law and survive. Many had been tutored by the bundle, now that right was to be given to her.

Carefully, the archer pointed to the first dried plant flattened in the array. "See majesty this is-"

"Hemlock," Regina interposed before he could finish. Delicately the ex-monarch picked up the poisonous sprig by the fragile twig. Eyes enraptured by the sight, her face a blank stone she slowly rolled the plant betwixt thumb and forefinger. Familiarity gleamed in her eyes with the knowledge of the plant inside and out.

A hint of curiosity sparked the archers visage as he stared from plant to witch. She looked as though she were meeting an old friend. "You've encountered the plant before and lived?" he wagered to guess.

Rare as living from Hemlock was, there were people who did survive an extremely small dosage sometimes. The effects of surviving were a miasma of symptoms but they passed once the poison was flushed from the system. Only rumors reached his ears about people who survived the poisons acrid bite but with a cunning woman like Regina, he put those odds in her favor.

"Plant knowledge is a lesson I'm afraid you have little to teach me about," the ex-queen sighed frostily and placed the sprig back on the leather. Her hand lingered with a familiar grace about the plant. "I already know much, too much about the poisonous kind. Most of the normal ones and some of the more uncommon."

Smirking, the bandit stifled a chuckle but a rebellious trickle fled his lips. "I didn't know the queen was a gardener," he joked roguishly, his wit without snap this time. Of course that was probably not the case, and would probably earn him another frosty glare, but the image of her weeding and gardening was too good not to announce aloud.

"I made poisons," she admitted emotionally, her voice devoid of pride or pity. Eyes riveted to the plants, her chocolate orbs shimmered with a mixture of pain and shame. "I concocted so many poisons." Thoughtfulness filled her voice. She seemed as though lost in a long ago memory of some shadow. "I wanted to use them on my enemies. I dreamt about watching them take a bite of some toxin laced prize and smiling as they writhed in agony with foam spilling from their mouths, their lungs filling with blood before thrashing and falling still."

Often she saw herself as the innocent looking plants. She was fine to view from afar but poisonous once close and ready to sting. The men of Robin Hood's camp saw her for what she was, the man himself seemed to want to take his chances with her acidic poison.

Lips thinned, the archer stared at the plants. The pain in her words weighed like anchors on his heart as though he shared her pain. There was a hint of regret there, somewhere milling in her timbre. He could hearthe pang that resonated and shuddered from the depths of her heart. How, he did not know but he could.

"They can hurt but they can also remedy," he returned softly. Pointing a finger to a sprig with a bunched cluster of five red berries he smiled faintly. "Hollygrapes. Two can kill, one can reduce a fever." His hand moved to another plant that was bark-like. "Mrtylesap can stop the heart but taken judiciously the sap can save a man's life if he's bleeping inwardly." Looking up to her, he spoke with a soft knowing. "There is bitterness and death in their leaves, each and every one, but also good. One just has to know where to look, and for those who know where to look the plants are not poisons, but a blessing to those who can see past the renowned hazards. They are dangerous but they can be so much more if people only looked past the bad to what good they can be."

For long moments the witch started at the plants. Emotions swirled heavily in deep contemplations through her eyes. His words sunk into her like a poison themselves, only without the pain but a lightness she had never before felt. "You're a strange man," she stated aloud, her voice hemmed with confusion. Truly she couldn't comprehend the infuriating archer. How could he see things so differently?

"With all do respect, majesty, you're not the most normal of guests in my camp," he refuted cheekily. Giving her a roguish wink, he let a trail of laughter escape him along with the moment of sagely insight.

Scoffing all the while hiding a smile, Regina turned her attention back to the plants. Warmth, something she had not felt in many a day touched at her frigid heart. She wanted to smile at him, to push his shoulder for being so witty all the time. She wan- Alarmed, the woman shook the feeling away. The warmth sputtered and died like a candle blown out by a wintry breath. No. That was never going to happen.

With a firm will she nailed up the coolness again, her face a nobles blank façade. Eyes cool, she flickered in cool condemnation her illustrious gaze over to the most foreign plant there. "That one I don't know. What's that?"

"That? Well that's wolfsbane," he explained knowledgably, his words running on, completely unaware of the near panic that had scrambled inside the heart of the queen.

"Paw paw are you teaching Miss Regina of the plants?" Roland queried in his constantly childish curious way just as they had began their lesson again. Toddling up between them the little boy stared over the packet of the dried plants then swung his head to Regina then his father. "I already know about them but can I listen?"

Confusion contorted Robin's visage for a moment. His eyes flickered from Regina then to Roland. "Certainly son but wouldn't you rather be playing. You were bored to tears when I taught you."

"I don't really feel playful today." The tiny boy sniffed and rubbed his nose with the back of his hand.

Regina smiled down at the boy. "I don't have any problems with you staying either," she voiced gently to the lad.

Delight surged brightly over the child's rounds face with his approval. "I won't get in the way, I promise." As if to ensure that oath the little lad scrambled up on Regina's lap. His tiny fists clutched the portions of the ragged sable gown as if he were scaling a mountain. With a little effort he was up upon her lap, nestled comfortably there.

Surprise shivered through Regina like an icy wave. Her stomached tensed with uncertainty at the familiarity he gave her. He had no idea how by surprise he took her with his actions. Everyone else in the camp hated her. They would not approve of the gem of the camp sitting on her lap. She wasn't even certain if his father approved.

Light, half embarrassed laughter fell from her as she looked down to the oblivious boy. "Roland wouldn't you like to go sit with your father?" she hinted, giving Robin the opportunity to scoop his boy away from her if he so chose.

"I'm alright here," Roland sniffed again. Hand curled up he rubbed viciously at his nose again. "Paw paw's doing the teaching so I won't get in his way here." Abruptly he stood up and turned. Body leaning against Regina he cupped a tiny hand to her ear in the utmost secrecy. "Besides," he whispered in a not so whispering, husky voice, "I can tell you stuff if you make a mistake."

A smile involuntarily crossed Regina's full lips at his dedication to be her unofficial teacher. She couldn't help that her heart lightened at the antics of the child. "That's very noble of you Roland I'm sure your trove of knowledge on plant life will be a wonderful help." Not a hint of sarcasm lingered in her voice. She would never have been so down putting to the boy. Never.

Enthrallment captured Robin's gaze as he watched the two get along. He had never seen the infuriating crocodile Regina snap at his boy. She spat her condescension and venom at all else, save little Roland.

There was no nervousness around the boy much like he saw when others who were not used to children came around them for the first time. She slipped into the role of capitulating guardian to Roland like an expert. How had a queen with only a half grown step-child she had tried to murder fall so easily into the role of child confidant? That indeed was a mystery for the ages.

Once the child was settled again, the witch turned her face up. Merriment died upon her visage as her eyes locked with the bandit. How long had he been staring at her? Ice coated her maple eyes once more, leaving the cold ex-queen to bandy words with him.

"Well," frosty impatient laced her tone. "Are we going to get on with this, backwoodsman?"

Laughter, bright and merry, sputtered from the outlaws lips. How inexplicably different she could be! How many sharp facets composed the jewel that was Regina! She could be a gentle woman one moment and a snapping serpent the next. "We are majesty." He bobbed his head knowingly, chuckles still falling from his mouth.

Turning his attention back to the plants laid out before him, he began to explain again to the witch plants she did not recognize. A sneeze erupted from his son as he talked but he didn't pause his explanation.

In the back of his mind, the outlaw noted the boy sounded like he was coming down with something but the sneezing and sniffling was probably nothing.

Surely the sniffles were nothing important. Surely.


	7. Swamp Fever

_A/N: I had a little time between classes today and when I looked back wasn't really pleased with the chapter on a few notes. I did a bit of grammar rescuing and the like, nothing serious. _

**~8~8~**

Gray dawn lingered teasingly over the realms of the Southern Wood with an agreeable air that promised clear skies once the sun arose fully in the firmament. Streaks of red and pink blazed over the horizon in long sun lit ribbons that snaked across the heavens. A soft breeze tickled through the trees whispering the arrival of dawn and shaking the branches as though to raise the very earth from, slumber. Coolness rose up from the ground bringing forth a cerulean blue mist in the early morn that hovered just inches over the verdant ground.

Though the start of day was peaceful something was wrong, Robin know deep in his soul. Ills pressed upon his heart with a forceful presence that could not be denied. The wind that bullied against the water proof, sikly pale tent canvas whispered something was amiss; grossly so.

Eyes still closed, the notorious bandit ran through his mind what was out of place. Regina? He gave a metal shake of his head at the name. No, he had resigned himself to that course. The lads? No, they would settle once things became routine again. Ro-

Abruptly, piteous crying echoed lowly from the other side of the tent as Robin struck the point of his disturbance. The sound was a mutter and a plea all at once. A thing he dreaded to hear.

In an instant Robin's brown eyes snapped open, his mind taken to the trouble. Roland hadn't been feeling well and he'd been sent to bed early with a cup of broth. Though he had been watchful he wasn't or hadn't been worried about his son.

Now that was a different story.

Stiffly rising from his cot, the archer tossed on a rough, off white, linen undershirt and quietly padded from his place across the tent to his sons. Worry played upon his face with a sharp air of alarm that broke through his ever easy manner. As he stopped at his sons bedside, he loomed over the boy nestled in his bed like some mystical guardian. His rich umber eyes scanned the boy hurriedly to dictate his health.

Unlike what he assumed last night, the boy did in fact, have something.

Red splotches dappled the boys cheeks as though he had run himself ragged and was out of breath. His nose was a painful poignant crimson from being rubbed at so hard with his shirt sleeve, and pale yellow mucus oozed down his nostrils. A pallid shade of ghastly white endowed his round face where the angry red did not claim. With every breath his body seemed to rattle and shake. His lung produced a high wheezing sound before a rattling cough shook his tiny form.

Tears streamed down the young lads face, and that, if nothing else broke Robins alarmed heart.

Panic boiled in the archer to see his boy such. His throat seemed to close and his heart raced. Stifling the panic he felt bubbling, the bandit knelt by the cot. His hands trembled as he brushed the curly chesnut hair back from his sons face. Scorching heat met his fingertips like a flame telling him his son also possessed a fever.

"Roland," he whispered his sons name to quell the hysteria he felt pulse within. Roland was more afraid than he was in that moment. As father he had to at least give the boy confidence and calm.

Slowly the boy opened his gummy eyes. Rubbing the flat of his hand against his face, he broke out a little sob. His breath sputtered and wheezed in a rattle rife with phlegm and his entire boy shook as though invisible abusive hands vionelt jarred him back and forth.

"It's aright son," Robin comforted lowly. His hands brushed his son's curly hair from his face as his mind raced on what course of action to take. There were many serious diseases that came with his symptoms. He could have gotten an illness from a host of things just rambling through the woods like any other day. He could have gotten something from a bite or scratch or even an insect.

"Think hard so because this is important." Robin held his boys tiny hand between his large bow calloused ones. Pleading and dire desperation gleamed in his eyes to his son. "Did you get scratched by something? Bit?"

The lad shook his head and hiccupped. "No paw paw…." Another cough wracked his tiny frame. Breath scarmbled haggardly from his mouth as though trying to escape a swamp. Hand curled into a fist at his mouth, the tiny boy seemed to want to fight back the coughs that assaulted his body. His coughing was like an inward blow, so forceful that he sat up in bed, his body quivering. The cot creaked under him with every hard cough that clambered from his tiny body.

Robin's eye's desperately studied the boy again, his gaze on searching for anything remiss about the lad. He had hoped he would have remembered something, but to a small boy a scratch was nothing and a bite worthy of pride not tears. Placing a hand on his sons back he rubbed his large hand along his spine if to simply comfort him with his presence.

"Alright, son," Robin comforted gently, his voice low to hide his panic.

Placing a hand on his boys right shoulder, he was about to lay his son back down. Abruptly he paused as another sight caught his eye at the nape of his son neck. One hand holding the boy up, the archer use his other to pull down the collar of his faded brown shirt. A series of three small red dots from insect bites lay in a precise row along the curve of his neck. The bites were little bigger than a pins tips and around the flushed ruby was a peculiar bile yellow.

A prayer of thanks rose inwardly from the bandit to any deity that leaned an ear there way. Though they could have been missed by an inexperianced eye, he had seen them before on more than one occasion. While his son was aching at least now he knew what was amiss.

"Swamp fever," Robin muttered quietly to himself as he lay his boy down.

Relief shivered through the archer like a spring rain as the knoweldge bounded through his head. Ease clambered into his heart along with an intrinsic detail of what had to be done. A least known he was not stumbling through the dark for what ailed his boy. Swamp fever was dangerous, lethal even at times, but he knew how to combat the effects.

Taking up his sons gray blanket, the outlaws bundled his son up tight. His hand wrapped the soft wool neatly over his body to keep him from moving to much. Pain laced his face as he stared at his son. The boys face was a mix of agony and fear. How he wished to take those away; to make his boy feel safe again. How he wished he could simply erase his agony.

Hiding his worry, the archer kissed the boys fevered brow before standing up. Looking down upon his boy he inwardly swore to make see him better. Roland would not leave the realm of the living. Not whilst he could still draw breath to save his son.

Instilled with a panicked purpose the archer strode out into the camp. His steps pounded against the damp ground silently as though her were a shadow. Slipping out into the morning, he obsevred the camp out of habit.

All was still mostly quiet per usual. Bluish stray wisps of smoke from the dead fire lazily curled to the air. Not so shy does nibbled on tender leaves at the very border of camp in an indolent breakfast. Snores rebounded about the camp in a discordant chorus with faithful Little John in the lead. Scant rays of tawny honey slipped through the thick canopy above, and all the lads were still asleep.

At any other time the morn would have been idyllic, but not with his sons health in rigorous peril.

"Little John," Robin cried out to the bearish man sleeping beside his rock. His voice held alarm, a rare thing in even the worst situation.

A sleepy grumble muttered from the hulks lips as he slowly rankled awake. The great hulk of his body seemed to toss a bit as he forced himself from the realm of repose. His eyes fluttered sleepily and darted about for trouble as he smacked his dry lips. "Robin what's wrong?"

"Roland's sick." The bandi padded towards the fire. Picking up a dry stick he shanked the twig in the depths to rustle the embers beneath the ash. They would need a fire, he noted perceptively in the back of his mind, if at the moment, he only did so to have something to do other than panic.

The few dreaded words were like fire set under the feet of the men. Immediately the camp stirred to life. Haggard men stumbled out of their coloroful tents, their clothes trailing behind them. Sentries half asleep all but fell from the trees and landed inside the camp like the roughest angles come down. Like moths drawn to a candle they packed beside Robin at all sides. Words of alarm and concern flooded from every mouth in a torrent of babble. A threat of an attack could not have rallied the men faster.

Sick. The word wafted about Regina like an ominous thing. Rising to her feet, the witch swiped the leaves from her ragged gown and faced the archer. Unabashed concern gleamed in her eyes, her face a tracery of alarm as the rest were.

"What do you mean he's sick?" roared Little John like a frenzied bear. His huge form stomped over to the fire and looked towards the tent uneasily. He could almost picture the shadoe of death lingering at the tent flaps.

"Swamp Fever." The archer worrisomely raked a hand through his hair. Head low, he pinioned his eagle stare upon the slowly building camp fire. "This is a bad a case as I've ever seen. He has all the symptoms and they're vicious." Slowly he titled his head up to all the alarmed faces. "This is going to be a long day, lads," he sighed tremulously.

Little John scowled fiercely, his face jointed into a stubborn glar. "We're with you Robin. Tell us what needs to be done."

Agreement shuddered through the makeshift meeting. Heads bobbed in unison, one with the bearish John. Every soul was willing to help. How could they not, Roland was the joy of the camp itself.

"Thank you my friends," Robin praised humbly. He was always stunned by their dedication. Inhaling deeply he looked at them all again, his eyes alit with purpose. "Let's get to work then. Little John I need you to find a Beech tree and collect only the most tender shoots. Allan I need Fire Moss. Only the most red you can find. Tuck we'll need cold water and rags. The rest of you I need any butterfly cocoons you can find, spider web, and star clusters with only the pink tips. Hurry, please."

Set to their tasks the merry men disappeared like smoke blown by the wind. In mere moments only Robin and Regina stood at the pit.

"How can I help?" Regina queried readily. Though she was still icy to them, she had grown found of the boy. To hear he was sick struck a cord in her soul to prod to help. She could bear a bit of cooperation if such meant his security.

Stalking over to a mound of supplies gathered under a dwarfish dogwood, the outlaw dug through them for other items he needed. "With all due respect majesty you can't. You can't forage, you don't know the ingredients….," he left the rest unsaid. With a grunt he pulled a skin of wine from the supplies and turned to face her. Grief and worry he had hidden blatantly lined his face. His eyes were hallows of desperation and hysteria.

He was on the sliver of an edge, Regina knew, though knew not how she knew it. Normally she would argue the point. Indeed she felt a querulous will to spit at him just what she thought lingered in her tactile mind, but she swallowed the urge back. He didn't need her bite right now.

"I won't get in your way," she assented lowly with a small regal nod.

Staring at her, the thief wrapped the brown wine skin cord tightly about the curved neck. "Thank you." He gave a brief nod of gratefulness.

Truly that was the best thing that could be done. If she were with Roland she would only crowd the tent and the last thing he needed was sending out extra man power to hunt her down if she were lost.

Striding past her, the archer slipped once more inside the tent with the wine in tow.

A sad smile curved grimly upon Regina's lips as her eyes stared at the stockpile before her. Pain wrenched at her heart with icy claws that twisted her heart into knots. She couldn't be of help. Not now, not ever again.

Slipping like a shadow the former witch disappeared out of the small glade of the camp. She wouldn't be in their way, even if that meant a scathing glare from a merry man.

~8~8~

Dawn sun gilded the thick plumes of the forest in glorious revival of day, but Regina barely noticed. Slinking through the entangled land, she seemed a wandering ghost with no where to go. Her steps were more skilled over the uneven, ever shifting terrain as she slipped through the woodland realm. A stark frown penned her lovely face in a mixture of worry and disapproval. If only she could be useful, if only she had magic.

Slowing to a halt the witch faced a knotted tangle of emerald vines in her path. Long dark green vines twisted and wrapped in a net between waist thigh underbrush and spindly trees as though a fragile playground for fairy children.

Sorrow swelled in her heart at the view of the tangle. Not so long ago she could have wielded power to bend the flora and fauna of the woods to her will. The vines and limbs they dangled from would have parted at half a thought for her. Just as she could have commanded them, she could have easily healed Roland from whatever ill took him.

Eyes pinioned upon the vines, she witch raised her right towards the verdant ropes. Palm forward, her chestnut eyes puckered against the greenery with a truculent stare. Emma Swan's powers had been evoked and dredged up in times of need; perhaps hers would do the same.

Focusing on the cords, she made a mental prompt in her mind to move them. Thought riveted on the command, she focused all she could upon the strands. Her eyes burned with the will to have them move. Her heart roared with the passion to weave them with but a thought. Every ounce of emotion and desire and heart bleed from her soul to the well that once housed her magic…. Deeper and deeper she drew down, her emotion a force that shuddered through her.

Nothing.

Frustration snapped sharply from Regina's lips in a sigh mingled with a low cry at her failure. Swinging her hand down, she turned away from the vines. Anger clapped about her heart with burning talons that scored down her chest. Fighting back a scream the witch cursed her lethargic prowess. Her finger tips pressed against her throbbing temples as she tried to calm herself. Eyes closed, she cursed herself and the indolent power.

Why couldn't she summon forth the magic? Why didn't she have magic any longer? Magic wasn't just a thing that came and went. Magic was not a well that ran dry out of the blue.

Her powers had been expended, but she should have had them back. She should have been able to be.… Useful. She should have been useful to Rob- Roland, she corrected quickly. She should have been useful to Roland.

~8~8~

The day went by at an agonizing pace for Robin of Locksley. The hours trudged by reluctantly at a vapid snails rate. Time seemed to be weighed by chains that held the minutes back before they could break free only to be quickly clapped in iron again.

Every one of his men had returned with what they were tasked to bring through they seemed to have taken forever. One by one they had arrived in camp, their arms laden and hearts heavy that they couldn't bring more.

Robin had set to work at once with all the ingredients. He mashed and shredded and boiled everything into a fine paste and then syrup. With the wine he mingled the concoctions and allowed his son to drink.

That part had taken only until the afternoon. The rest was spent in high tension that tingled upon every nerve. Though the wine laced medicine would dispel the disease the fever had to be broken to know they had done their job and so had the elixir.

Hours they waited, baited breath, prayers flowing from apostate lips until finally.…

"The fever has broken," Robin sighed in vast relief as he slipped past the tent flaps.

Happiness marked his face in a brilliant glow of sweat as he faced his men. Exultant glee shimmered like stars in his eyes. A weight of unimaginable power felt lifted from his shoulders. When the fever broke so had his worry, his fear that Roland might see his mother soon.

A mighty, weary cheer arose from the merry men as the news reached them. Fist punched victoriously to the darkening sky and shouts shuddered from once dry mouths. Back slaps pounded through the air and cries of delight shivered the trees. Inside the boy still wept, lower, but the worst was over. Roland would live.

A weary smile graced the outlaw's lips as he rubbed a hand through his sweaty hair. "You've all worked very hard. Please, enjoy your sleep knowing you've help save my very soul."

Sleepy nods bounced from every head. They were all tired from the day's trials. One by one mutters of more well wishes stammered from their lips. Like ghost beat back to the underworld they departed until the camp was clear.

Regina wasn't back, Robin noted, but he had faith she hadn't gone far.

Sighing tiredly the man turned back to the whimpering of his son. He couldn't afford to think of Regina at the moment, though his son was safe he was still in misery.

~8~8~

The moon was a pregnant quicksilver orb high in the cloudless night as the former monarch reentered the sanctuary. Pale soft blue moon beams slipped through the trees and danced upon the forest floor. The leaves were gilded in silver rather than gold and seemed all the world was ruptured in a pearly sapphire.

Soft crying reached Regina's ear like a dream as she slipped back fully into camp. A look of consternation smeared her face as she traipsed towards the center of camp. Trepidation bound her heart on edge as the crying continued. Had they been successful? If so why was he still crying?

Turning uncertainly to the tent of the Hood's, the witch eyed the refuge for the sick child. Surely to check in wouldn't be too much of a hassle for them; not like he was asleep. Gathering herself the witch padded over to the tent. Face to face with the tent, she raised her fist and knocked curtly at the post out front that divided the tent flaps.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry I know he's very loud but he can't help it," Robin professed apologetically as he exited the tent.

Roland tucked comfortably, but weeping, in his arms he looked every inch the dedicated father at his wits end. Studiously he clutched his son tight, doing all in his power to ease the child. His tired eyes widened as he stepped out and Regina took a step back from boy and man. "Oh, majesty." He bounced the child a bit to no avail. "Again I apologize."

Licking her lips the witch shook her head. "I don't care about the crying… is Roland better?" she asked mildly, her voice hemmed with touches of concern.

"He'll live." the outlaw confirmed tiredly. Letting a sigh pass his lips, his mouth contorted into a grimace. "Unfortunately the pain is still there. Poor little lad; he's miserable. Every breath seems clogged."

The danger had passed. Relief spilled into the ex-queen like a flood. She did not know how pent she was until the words fled his lips.

Now, she determined inwardly, that that danger had passed she could offer help on another matter. Though she may not have known much about medicine she knew a little bit of soothing and home remedies for minor aches and pains.

A faint smile tipped the creases of her lush mouth. "That I think I can help with."

"You?" unabashed disbelief spilled from his tone. He would have caught himself any other time but his exhausted mind let things slip. Fatigue burned his mind and body like weights strapped about his limbs in intangible trappings.

Anger flared through the witch in a sudden brand of offence. Him doubt her? "Give him here you ignorant peon," Regina snapped venomously, her words dripping bile in their quiet hiss. How dare he doubt her!

Incredulity stamped Robin's weary features. His eyes searched her impatient face with an air of a hunter sizing up prey. Did he dare? Yes.

In some ways Regina and suspicion did not add up in his mind. To a degree he held a measure of trust for the banished woman. Though she was not one of them she was good with Roland to a degree. Perhaps she could do somthing.

Reluctantly, he extended his arms out with the uncomfortable and crying boy. "What are you going to do?"

"The reason he's so fussy is because he's congested," she explained crisply. Holding the boy close she began to rub his back in slow up and down motions. "If you have any mint fetch it for me quickly."

Nodding uncertainly, the archer bounded off. He was as one of his arrows released from a bow. In moments he slowed his pace at the stores the camp kept. Stores, as many of his men termed it, was the worst word to put to their collection of things they each divulged to the camp. Mismatched jumbles of termite infested crates, old boxes and worn gunny sacks all sat shoved up together like one ridiculous dwarf mountain.

Searching the threadbare sacks and crates, the arched mumbled passionately to him. "Mint." His eyes searched their stores. "Mint. Min… Ah!" crowed the bandit victoriously and brought forth a sprig of mint like a peace banner.

"Good." Regina bounced the unsettled boy a bit in her arms. Her eyes scanned the archer as she nudged her head faintly over to the low fire. "The mortal and pestle by the fire. Take the leaves off the sprig and chop them up very fine then mash them up."

Almost like a slave, the archer did as he was bid. Concentration set in his eyes as he chopped and diced until the small green leaves were nary but small pieces. "What next?" he inquired, looking up to her.

"Find some water and add just enough to make a paste," she commanded softly to the boys benefit than for their fathers.

Thin lines wrinkled the arches brow in confusion. "What're you planning?"

"Just do as I say, backwoodsman!" she snapped, her eyes afire. "The longer you tarry the more discomfort your son endures."

Chided, the outlaw bent to his task. Taking a skin of water, he uncorked the top and carefully poured a scant amount. Silently, he ground up the mixture. His face, fringed with worry dappled in the light of the fire and the encroaching shadow.

"There." He stood and quickly padded back to the woman.

Handing out the boy back to his father, the witch snatched the mortar from his hands. "Open his shirt," she commanded as though he were some dilettante in the way of diseases of the woods and she the expert.

Reluctance bound Robin's limbs but he did as she bid. Rolling up his son's brown shirt, he held him out like some pagan sacrifice. His muscles tensed like steel cords along his body, his eyes pinioned upon her. If she tried to hurt his son….

"Don't give me that look," Regina hissed angrily. "I'm trying to help him."

Slowly the ex-witch dipped her hand into the mortar. Scooping out the paste she dabbed the pale green mixture to his chest.

Roland squirmed and writhed a bit, mewling at the cold touch, but little else. Tears coursed down his cheeks, his breathing clogged and wheezing, but he didn't try to fight.

"The scent of crushed mint is extremely aromatic," the witch explained in wry softness as she applied the salve to the boy's chest. Her hands plastered the mixture on thickly until his entire chest was painted green. "The smell is so strong; the scent pushes through the congestion to relieve the stoppage."

As if on cue, the boy breathed deeply. For the first time that day, his chest moved without a mucus chorus to go along. Like a gift from the deities the boy settled. The tears that stained his face stopped as well as the piteous mewling.

Rolling the shirt back down, the monarch scooped the lad from his father's hand. "There you see." A faint smile hinted at her lips. "A simple solution." Bouncing the boy a bit she went back to rubbing his back. "I'll stay up for a little bit to see he sleeps without any ill affects."

"Would you?" Robin queried. For the first time weariness hemmed his tone. Worry had gnawed upon his heart all day like a physical force. He had worked nonstop now even his strength was all but depleted.

Immediately, Regina's cold umber orbs found his. "I said I would, didn't I? Now go… do whatever crazy backwoodsman do."

A strange look of befuddlement invaded Robin's features. First she snapped at him them shooed him away. She didn't have a reason to take Roland for a time, but she offering without the slightest provocation. How he wished to ask what compelled her but fatigued raged harder in his soul than blistering curiosity.

"My thanks, majesty," he replied truthfully and stompped past her with a weary, uncertain gait. His mind was a jumble of disarrayed puzzle pieced that refused to fit. Why was she being so gracious? She had no reason to be. The thought stayed with him until at least he collapsed upon his bed roll and knew no more.

~8~8~

A sorrowful owl hoot echoed eerily about the forest like a clarion call late into the night. The last crickets sang their symphonies to the night in an intermitent song.

Sleep encumbered the archer like a hand over his eyes but he forced himself awake. His body, though tired, was still used to rising early and a long day did not quell that. The fabric of the tent was a dim darkness telling him the sun had not yet risen but day was near. Instinctively he turned over to see his son on the other side of the then. Eyes narrowed, only a flat mess of blankets met his gaze.

Fear struck the bandit like a crash of lightening. Jolting upward he looked at the barren space of bed roll and blanket. Hysteria rumbled in his heart like a geyser readying to erupt but he fought down the panic. Raking a trembling hand through his hair, he searched for calm. There had to be a reason. Little John or Allan or….

Immediately the night's workings sprung back into his head. A sigh shuddered through his body as his panic eased. Regina. Though many would have felt unease at the name, relief filled the outlaw. Ease flowed through him like life giving water. With Regina, he had no doubt, his boy was safe.

Silently, the man hauled himself up from his cot. Slipping out of the home, he breathed the scent of forest in deep. Dew and the fresh aroma of thick rotting mulch whisked pleasantly through the air to fill the forest before the dawn.

Eyes scanning the camp his vision came in contact with the two he sought. Walking up and down the camp, the outcast Regina carried the tiny Roland through the grove. The tiny boy slept happily. His tiny head sat on her shoulder as he was walked.

Surprise rippeled strangely through Robin. With the first gray light of dawn alighting the woods she had to have been up…. Hours.

As she finally turned in her route, she stooped at the sight of him. Utter exhaustion lined her face but she hid the fatigue behind a wall of a frown. Footsteps silent on the dewed earth she strode to him at an even, practiced stride to not wake the once ill Roland.

"Roland," Hood managed to stammer out past his surprise. "How is he?"

Regina's lips twitched into a sad smile. "Slept like a baby."

"You… you walked him… all night?" He arched a brow. Had she really done something so selfless?

Nodding, the ex-queen continued her trek, not daring to stop least the boy awakened. "Indeed I did," she replied simply, her voice quiet in the gray of the false dawn. "It wasn't so bad. He's really quite light."

That wasn't entirely the truth. He was as a normal five year old boy would be and her arms ached but she would rather die than admit that to the father.

Falling into step with her, the outlaw nodded. A faint smile tickled his face but turned into a warm grin. He couldn't tease her at present. Not when she had taken so much time to care for his boy.

Folding his hands behind his back he turned to look at her. "That was quite impressive last night. I didn't think he would ever get any rest, poor little fellow."

"I didn't do much." Regina shrugged faintly. Perhaps it was the restless night, mayhap the tranquil morn, but she felt her walls fall a bit towards the outlaw. A faint smile of rememberance quirked at her lips. "When Henry was a little boy he caught a terrible cold. I put some expectorant on his chest but he wasn't soothed. So," she sighed. "I walked him up and down the hall in my house for an entire night. He never slept more soundly."

Scratching behind his right ear, the archer canted his head like a confused hound. "Henry?"

Breath caught in Regina's throat as though she was caught in a crime. Henry. Had she really just brought up her precious son to an insufferable, ignorant backwoodsman? Why not? Was she so scared that even his name would dredge up pain that she could scarcely endure? But then, his very name had not brought up blistering agony before Robin Hood, perhaps she could divulge a bit more.

"Henry," Regina repeated lowly, testing the name always on her mind but never spoken aloud. "My son."

Shock widened Robin's eyes. "Son. My, my I learn something new everyday about your majesty."

A mother. The idea rolled about Robin's head in abject surprise. He couldn't properly wrap his mind about the admission. Though she had the makings of a matron he had never associated her with a child. As the stories went she had tried to murder her step-daughter.

Brow arched he dared another glance at her before continuing their rather slow circuit of camp. "The father? If you don't mind me asking."

"Dead," she reveled primly. "He wasn't my husband though," she added on quickly. The thought of Rumpelstiltskin's spawn being her husband was not a thing to picture in the least. "Henry was adopted you see," pain hinted at her voice at the terrible admission. "I was mother to him in everyway but blood."

No matter how much she cared, no matter how good she was, she wasn't blood. She had not birthed him. His family were the Charming's and she… she was just the evil queen.

Awkwardness and the desire to comfort pinched at the outlaws conscious. He had just opened sorrowed annals in her past. Still, he pondered, perhaps to see the conversation through would be best. She was open to him now, more than she had ever been. "You miss him?" he dared gently.

Miss him? Did the moon rise at night? Did the rivers flow into the sea? She would have happily lived without magic or even in a cell if she could have seen his face every morning and every night.

"Everyday," returned Regina, her voice low.

Thoughtful silence pervaded betwixt the two in the early dawn. Slowing to a stop the watch turned to the thief. "There," she sighed and held the sleeping boy out. "I think you can take him now."

"Of course, majesty." The outlaw gently scooped his boy in his arms.

The child stirred with the passing but did not awaken. His breathing came at a steady rhythm and he settled like a dream in his father's sinewy arms. Curly head on his fathers shoulders he pressed his forehead against his fathers bandana'd neck as he slept on.

A thin line stretched the ex-queens lips as she watched the two. "If that's all I think I'll go try to find some sleep of my own."

"Yes... right," the bandit stammered, his mind coming in full circle of her words. "You must be exhausted, majesty."

"Regina," she corrected softly with a brisk nod to the archer. "You can call me Regina."

After all, soothing his son all night, the thought of being called majesty any longer seemed inappropriate. Besides, who was she kidding; she would never rise to those lofty heights again. Of course she was still bred of nobility but what could a name hurt?

Staring into her eyes as he held his son, the archer dipped his head. "Regina then…. I'll leave you to get your rest."

Turning away, the bandit stalked back towards his tent. A smile curved upon his lips though he didn't know why. Why did he feel as though he had earned something so precious?


	8. A Debt

Warm waxy light glowed insipidly through the thick tent panels of Robin Hood's forest home. The golden light transmuted the mulled, earthen colors of the domicile in a light yellow cream hue that seemed to turn the inside of the tent into a faded, water stained picture.

Near insufferable heat stagnated heavily in the tent with staled air. The scent of sweat hung upon the very fabric of the tent along with the aroma of freshly polished leather and wax used for his bowstrings to keep the attire and weapons supple.

Though many would have wrinkled their noses and forsook the mean shelter, for Robin, the place was all too familiar now - home.

A low sigh silently crossed Robin Hood's partially pinched lips as he stood at the entrance of his tent preparing for the day. His hands moved automatically across his green and brown leather jerkin to make certain all was right upon his person. Bow calloused fingers roved over silver buckles and linen pouches and sheathes all in a familiar path way across his cagey form.

Without looking at himself he judged and made adjustment where needed as he stared towards the tent flaps. The left half of the canvas tent was peeled back slightly in a narrow opening just big enough to peek through to the outside word unnoticed. Through the slit, as he worked, the notorious outlaw spied the regal queen at her post by the fire.

Intolerable and solitary, she sat by the fire as she usually did. Hands laid precociously in her lap, chin tilted just high enough to let everyone know what she thought of his camp and the men who lived there, she was a picture of viperous, ruined elegance.

All about her activity bustled through the camp in a steady tributary of chores and business. Familiar bodies trudged in front of his vision and all about her on their way hither and thither. Endless chores that came with running the camp filled the noise of their small enclave. Hammers clanged sonorously as they struck bent metal, axes thunked thickly into wood, stones rasped keenly upon weapons to keep them sharp all in a chorus.

Normally the sounds, the sights, the smells would all fill him with due pride and energy, yet all seemed only to cross his vision like a dream as he watched the former royals black garbed figure. Just as when he was shooting the world seemed to fade into a gray backdrop with only her and his target in mind.

Now that his son was on the mend he had had a long time to think. Night after night for three days now he had tossed and turned and deliberated upon the former witch like never before. How she had handled his son had truly made him sit down and think of her. As the dawn had risen he had come to a recourse in himself. Now, now he had to act upon his decision for good or ill.

Straightening his forest green tunic with a firm hand, the arched squared his shoulders. Slipping his bow over his torso, he pinched his fingers down the white sting along his chest as he steadied himself. His eyes pinioned upon her with the stare he reserved only for his targets. A deep, cavernous breath inequitably filled his lungs as he steeled his nerves for what had to be done at long, long last.

Ducking out of the tent, the bandit made straight way for the witch. His steps were sure and swift like one of his own arrows as he arrived closer.

Regina slowly turned her head to him as he made known his approach. Thin lines of duplicitous ire marred her brow only for a moment before they faintly softened upon her light visage. Coldness ever presently walled her maple eyes to hide her emotions, but a portcullis was there now. The small opening was a gate rarely opened into her, yet there still there was one now where there hadn't been before. She let him in once in a blue moon, and that was progress at least.

Only the pain that wallowed pressingly in his lungs informed the archer he had not released the pent breath as he drew closer. Slowly allowing the air to steal past his pinched lips, he tempered his pace towards the former monarch.

"I can't put this off any longer, Regina," Robin declared sorrowfully as he padded up to the woman. Hands clasped together before him like a doctor burdened with ill news, he loomed over her gloomily. Sadness radiated ubiquitously from him as a stench did a rotted corpse.

Confusion liberally painted the deposed queens face in an array of surprise. Such was not his way, not even when angered. Suspicion donned her being as though she had been caught off guard. Her eyes were brown pools that gleamed threateningly in the afternoon rays that slipped from above. Why so suddenly did he speak such words?

He had assured her numerous times he was not going to be rid of her. Had his men finally coaxed him against his reason? "What can't you put off any longer?" Accusation icily filled her low voice.

Inwardly she tensed her emotions and prepared for the blow. He was sending her away, she confided deep within. That was the only reason for his impromptu advance toward her. Hands curled into tight fists about the edges of her sable gown she gracefully steeled herself for the news.

"Well… A trip into town of course," the archer replied, his voice growing light. At once he seemed like the sun peeking out from a mass of clouds to banish the shade of gloom that cleverly enraptured his visage. Humor hemmed the edged of his easy timbre as he shed the cloak of forbearance. Tucking his thumbs under his belt, he canted his head to the side as though to find the best view of her inordinate surprise. A roguish smile he could not contain involuntarily stole upon his face. "I was wondering if you could watch Roland while I'm away."

Of course he was still determined she would not leave. Not after she had helped comfort his boy. In more ways than one he owed her a debt and Robin Hood always honored his debts.

Surprise played roundly upon Regina's face before she could hide her shock. For a moment she seemed not the icy queen but simply a woman tricked by a cunning joke.

As quick as the look came the same disappeared. Coldness iced over the witched face in a sharp intolerable carapace. "I am not particular to teasing, backwoodsman," Regina rebuked primly, her voice a hint of a snap. Vapidly turning her face back to the fire, she held her head up a bit. "But wouldn't you be more comfortable with one of your cronies watching him?" she inquired a bit softer.

Compared to the others of his camp, Roland barely knew her. Not to mention she barely knew the boy. All of his men would have given their lives for the lad. Why choose her? What was his game?

"Nonsense," Robin laughed fleetingly and proffered a hand about the camp. "Roland likes you and trusts you, and Little John is coming with me."

Mouth thinned into a distasteful line, the queen huffed. "And I suppose because Roland trusts me that makes the evil queen the perfect babysitter," she retorted sarcastically, her voice contentious and dry with disdain.

"No because I trust you." An indelibly soft smile perked upon the outlaws lips. Truth had never come so easily to his lips. He did trust her nearly as much as he would have imparted his belief in John or any of his men. Shaking the strange notion clear, the archer casually looked about once before he turned his full attentions back to the witch. "Will you watch him or not?"

Trust. Regina almost regaled in laughter at the word. A grim smile lightly curved upon her full lips. Rarely had that been ever sized up with her. She and trust lay on polar opposites of the realm, yet he applied the weight of it so freely upon her. Did he truly mean such?

Hands serenely on her lap the witch nodded regally. "Don't be stupider than you already are. Of course I'll watch him."

"Good then." Clapping his hands, the thief rubbed them together eagerly. "He should eat something in about an hour and if he's feeling up to it you can let him play around the camp, but keep a close eye out. He's still on the mend."

With that done, the archer rapidly turned to the bear of a man in the camp. Slipping his weapon off his torso, he raised his bow a bit in salute. "Little John are we ready to depart?"

"Aye Robin." John heavily lumbered up to the leader of the band. A grim smile, barely seen over the matted locks, ponderously lined his bearded lips. Slapping a hand on the archers back he laughed uproariously as they began the trek to town. "Let's get going."

Shooting a glance back at Regina, the huge man hid a grimace. And maybe, just maybe, he could talk some sense into his friend.

~8~8~

"But Robin, be reasonable!" Little John pleaded persistently to his comrade as they amble through the dirt paths of the town.

Quiet and sleepy the hamlet of Dragonslea was modest little out of the way village bordering the Southern Woods. Farmers, peasants, wood cutters, and colloquial folk inhabited the bucolic village mostly.

The inn was the largest building in the entire village and clapped in old warped hickory wood and a mossed over tiled roof. Like an old lord, the establishment sat in the back of the town leaving not much else for the tiny hamlet to boast. Though small the small town Dragonslea had a few commodities. A blacksmiths, butcher, and hosts of other small shops lined the main dusty path of the town.

For the people who thrived in the wild woods the bland village had everything they needed.

Swagger in his step the noble thief happily strolled at an easy pace through the town. Once he would have never gone into a village without a cloak over his head but since the rule of terror was over there was no need to be wary of any outside forces. Only the vast displeasure of Little John and his men.

"I am being reasonable, John," Robin replied sagaciously, his eyes constantly roving.

Eyes falling upon a young lass who pushed a rickety apple cart close to them, he dipped a quick bow and gave her a roguish wink as she passed.

A pale crimson incriminatingly dappled the lasses cheeks as they passed. With a slight nod she offered a dainty laugh as she passed by with her cargo upon the creaky cart.

Once they passed on their different ways, the thief produced an apple he had easily flinched from the cart. Hand outstretched he held the prize before him as though he admired a jewel and not a piece of common produce, his mind undeniably lost in thought.

Why couldn't they see, Regina wasn't so bad. She hadn't even done anything worthy of scorn. Only the title branded upon her marked her in black to them, nothing else.

Frustration rumbled perniciously in the hulks voice. "This isn't being reasonable! The men are tired of her and you want to go and do _this_?!" Near desperation filled his hearty voice in a way that betrayed he was nearly at his wits end.

"What would you have me do, dearest John?" He perched a brow in a sidelong glance to his majordomo. "I owe her a debt."

The bearish man tightly curled his right hand into a fist. "A debt only you perceive!" He pointed an accusatory finger at the archer. "The way I see it your slate is clean. You have shown her clemency when no one else would. You gave her a place to sleep for near a month now. She's had hot meals, safety and you think you owe her a debt? For what? Doing something any of use would have done!"

"Were you the one to figure out how to ease my son's pain in the middle of the night?" Robin asked hypothetically, his voice calm and reasonable.

Even as the words left his mouth he came to a stop outside a shop. One foot on the stoop, he peacefully cast his remonstrating ally a glance.

Little John awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck as he stopped as well. "Well no…."

"Then I owe her a debt. If the concoction had come from you then I would owe you a debt, John. I do, in a way. I owe all of you. Including Regina," he stated finally. "And this a small way towards paying her back."

Standing before the shop he adopted a teasing smile at his friend then tossed the apple his way. "Come John, this won't take long and it won't be as bad as you think."

"It's already gotten out of hand, Robin." John grumbled dissonantly and forced the apple into a bulging twill sack on his side. A dire frown pulled at his lips making him look every inch the displeased bear. Nevertheless a low sigh crossed his thin mouth as he shook his head. "Let's get this over with then."

Hearty laughter bellowed cheerfully from the bandits lips. "Good man." He slapped his long time friend on the arm. "Now let's go."

Opening the door the thief stepped up into the shop. With a sigh, John dejectedly ducked under and followed barely missing the door post with the sign of a needle and a spool of thread carved into the wood.

The inside of the shop was an detestably dim contrast to the brightness of the outside. Darkness hedged every corner like a stalking beast. The few clapboard window at the front tenaciously blotted out light with bright blue curtains. An ominous caves darkness did not seem as black as in the shop. The smell of acrid dyes being boiled hung odorously through the air and rolls of vibrant fabric hung like large spider webs gone awry everywhere.

"Well bless my soul, Little John and Robin Hood," a small man exclaimed in a sturdy but muffled voice from somewhere in the back of the shop.

Stumbling out of the backroom a rather tiny man with round spectacles on the tip of his nose appeared in the main shop. His hair once black was all but gone with age. In fact he seemed to have lost a hair for every day he lived for he seemed an ancient man. He wore a wide smile that always seemed to have pins sticking out the corners of his mouth, ready to tack a slip of fabric.

Wiping his liver spotted hands on his work apron he closely eyed the pair back and forth. "What're you doing back so soon? I normally don't see you both till winter to patch up the cloaks and trousers."

As the only tailor for miles around he had a lucrative business. He patched, sewed, and crafted anything none else could for the forest dwellers and the village folk.

"That answer is two fold sir." Robin smiled companionably and walked up to the long counter that divided them. Elbows upon the bar he leaned forward conspiratorially as though the man was an old friend. "I was wondering what you might have about in the way of a decent pair of yeoman wear."

The man slowly arched a snowy eyebrow, his endless wrinkles upon his forehead creasing into files of skin. "I always keep a fair amount of that." He waved a hand inconsequently. "What size, something more your weight or for the big man?"

"Something much smaller than I or Little John," lightly chuckled the thief.

Looking down as if doing some calculations, the tailor expertly bobbed his head in a steady nod. "Ah little Roland then."

"Quite a bit bigger than that," Robin reveled nervously. Head turned away he fought down a thrill of embarrassment. Getting something such as a pair of clothes shouldn't have been so difficult. Then again, he had never shopped for a woman before, the woman being the former evil queen no less.

A knowing look of manly insight gleamed in the elderly tailors sharp gray eyes. His lips irrepressibly quirked into a sly smirk. "That's a bit different then," he rasp a grunt and took out a page of vellum, ink, and quill from under the counter. Neatly, he set them on the counter, his head focused busily on the counter as he spoke to them with an air of business. "I'll have to do a bit of hemming and tacking. I don't have much in the way for _them_. Most 'round here sew their own clothes." He briskly dipped his quill in the ink and made a motion with the feather towards the archer. Looking over the rim of his spectacles, he eyed the thief over the golden rim of his spectacles. "What're her dimensions?"

"Dimensions?" Robin hesitatingly repeated the word as though spoken from a foreign tongue.

The tailor nodded laconically. "You know. Her figure. Her shape."

"Oh…." Robin blinked owlishly, caught off guard by the question. Lads had often come with him when they needed new wear or he could simply call them bulky like John or like himself. He had no gauge for what Regina was.

"Go on, Robin," John growled playfully, enjoying his friend's discomfiture.

Inwardly, the outlaw cursed his friends as he stood on the spot. Even without looking, he could almost feel the heat of his friends smirk branded upon his neck. He had to give the man something and no doubt John was going to regal the lads at camp about his immutable discomfort.

Stubbornly, the archer clamped down on his nervousness with a heavy hand. This shouldn't have been so insufferably difficult! "She's like… like." He formed his hands in the air and made a quick shape as though he could paint with the air. "Kind of like that."

How could he put to words what figure he saw of Regina? She had the body of a magnanimous temptress and the regal pomp of a queen. She was as dangerously sinuous as a serpent with the venomous bite of an adder. She had a body meant to be held and caressed or marveled upon if only because of the spirit within that form demanded such praise. She had-

No! He firmly clamped down on those thoughts. Where had those contemplations stolen from? What dark corner had such thoughts lurked in the rocky crags of his mind? How had they clandestinely stalked into the forefront of his thoughts and swirled there?

"Like that…?" the tailor repeated incredulously. A sigh haphazardly crossed his lips as he shook his head. "I need more than an imaginary figure, Robin."

"I know, I know," the outlaw heavily sighed in frustration. His fingers tapped rhythmically against the wood as he wracked his brain for a solution. He could see her before him in his minds eyes but he couldn't quite put words to his thought. A grimace tremulously caught his lips in disappointment. How easy gathering her clothes would all be if he could have simply taken the image from his mind and put the pic-

"Let me borrow your writing tools for a minute." He promptly beckoned to the wizened tailor.

Catching on to the idea instantly the tailor handed the archer the quill. "Certainly Robin, but I didn't know you could draw."

"I have quite a few unheard of skills," Robin murmured off handedly as he scrawled the quick, yet concise picture of Regina. "Not the least of which is a talent for art."

Once done he hastily slipped the vellum back to the tailor. Though he was certain his art did not do the woman justice he had her figure down. Her figure was indelibly pinioned to his brain; tattooed there from the first time he saw her.

Staring at the picture, the tailor's brows slowly rose so that his forehead was ridged in suspicion. "This is her, huh?" His eyes darted accusingly back to the archer, his face a mixture of so many thoughts to find one was impossible.

Breath sharply hitched in Robin's throat with the stare. His teeth clenched as he inhaled deeply. Kicking himself inwardly he recalled the exact reason why she couldn't have come along. She was Regina the banished, the hated, the loathed, the reviled. Perhaps, he hoped, the posters had not reached so far. Perhaps people had forgotten or unconcerned in a small town.

"Indeed it is." Robin smiled wanly.

Carefully staring back to the picture then to the outlaw, the tailor remained silent for a moment before a sigh crossed his lips. "Alright." He rolled neatly up the vellum into a small roll. "I'll see what I can do with this. It might take some time. What was your next request?"

"Oh... Yes." Robin surreptitiously suppressed a breath of relief. "We were wondering if you had a spare cauldron."

"Another?" The elders head sharply snapped back to them. "What did you do with the last one?"

The archer shrugged helplessly, his lips twisting into a smirk of easiness. "Things get lost into he woods."

"I see," the tailor returned suspiciously. "But at any rate, yes as long as you plan to pay you can have another I suppose. While I'm working on this drawing you can clean one out."

A wide smile infectiously sparked upon Robin's face. Gladdened beyond what he knew he should, the archer made a curt bow to the tailor. "Our thanks my friend." He tried to look deadly serious but failed. "And this time, the cauldron shall not get away from us."

~8~8~

Soft laughter easily crept past Regina's lips as she finally deposited Roland back into his cot. The day was waning into a crepuscular tint all along the tree line as she finally returned him back to the tent. The boy had been more than eager to play even after only a few days recovery. He had run about, telling of stories from his imagination for what seemed forever before he had begun to wind down.

Though the merry men had all looked at her with hostility after the day was mostly done, she had taken Roland into his father's tent and placed him back into bed. She wasn't there to snoop, though the urge did rise in her.

"Do you think Paw paw will be back before dark?" Roland yawned sleepily more than ready for sleep again.

A tender smile spread across Regina's lips as she tucked him in. "Well, I would guess so." She put the cover up to his chin. "Even if not he knows his way around the forest."

"I guess you're right Miss Regina." Roland smiled sleepily.

Stroking his curly hair, the witch chuckled gently. "All you worry about is getting some rest."

With a sleepy nod, the boy's eyes closed. He felt assured by Regina even though only weeks ago he had met her.

Looking over him, the witch canted her head to the right. Warmth irrepressibly pulsed as a hot ember in her heart. How she had missed taking care of a small child. To comfort and care and support. Being with Roland reminded her of times with Henry. That pain could never be soothed, but to have new memories as well seem to alleviate some of that agony.

"Amazing," Robin remarked in a whisper so as to not awaken his boy.

Hands behind his back the archer stood at the entrance of the tent. His eyes graced upon his son lovingly before they flickered back to Regina.

Turning swiftly the witch eyed the silent arrival of the thief. Indignation glinted perilously in her eyes but stood down in the wake of dealing with Roland.

Nudging his head to the lad, his lips curled into a smirk. "I can't ever make him go to sleep that swiftly. He always wants to jump around."

"Well…." Regina lowly sighed and padded over to the utterly infuriating man. "You just have to know how to handle these things," she remarked evenly as she stood face to face, only a hand span away from him.

A terse chuckle spilled merrily from Robin's lips. "I'm sure you do, Regina. I'm glad I entrusted the job to you, I didn't know I would be out so long."

"Oh?" mild curiosity hinted in her voice. Turning askance she forced bored disinterest into her voice. "What made you dally so long?"

Robin shrugged feigning carelessness. "A few essentials. Some favored stores, a new cauldron…" He slowly reveled his hands from behind his back. "This."

A set of clothes neatly bundled, weighed in his arms awaiting for her to take them. Too long now she had been wearing the same tattered garment. She forever stumbled and tripped and got caught on a daily basis by the insufficient gown which now was beyond even tatters. If she was to live her days into the forest then at least she could have some forest attire.

Shock blatantly rocked the witches face more openly than ever. Her eyes widened as she stared down at the complete wear. He had done this… for her?

"A gift," he explained gently and held them out. "For comforting Roland those nights back. I owed you a debt and I mean to pay."

Regina stared blankly from his eyes to the clothes, her walls in rubble about her hear. Total befuddlement reigned mightily upon her face. "Y… you?" her voiced came to an intrepid halt, unable to bring another word past her lips. A debt? Such kindness for a debt? "Thank you," she breathed out lowly.

Scooping the clothes out of his proffered hands, she held them as though they were fine silks. Her mind refused to allocate that they were hers. They couldn't have been. Why would he do such a thing? He asked for nothing, there was no purpose to his actions that would benefit him.

A smirk inched faintly over the archer's mouth. "You are quite welcomed Regina." He nudged his head back to the tent flaps. "Now I would suggest you go down to the waters and get cleaned before trying them on."

"I…." A look of confound misunderstanding incalculably marred her features. Still she did not understand. Why do something so noble? "Good idea," she breathed out tremulously least her voice betray her awe.

Vapidly slipping past the archer, Regina headed for the entangled edge of the camp. Her confused eyes only focused upon the thicket like the forest was a part of her whirling thoughts. As she came clear of the copse she hugged the neatly folded set to her chest.

Head perched down she let the tip of her nose carefully rub against the leather and fabric. The scent of newly washed cotton and oiled leather wafted about her. Her fingers smoothed incredibly over the clean closes with a near awe.

Alone, given a gift she did not comprehend, a single tear trailed down her face. Why did someone show her such kindness? Why?

~8~8~

"And so the tailor looks at us like we're crazies when Robin does this little hand thing!" Little John roared heartily to the lads as they sat around the fire. Mimicking the day's events from a stump near the bonfire, the hulking John related everything that had occurred in their adventure.

Boisterous laughter raucously echoed up from the rough men as they ate wild vegetable soup from the newly produced cauldron. Loaves of bread brought from the village warmed by stones near the blaze. Chunks of bread were missed out of most of the loaves and sat bobbing in bowls of soup as the men feasted. Good cheer hummed happily in every heart as they supped out soup and listened to the news gathered from John in town.

A smirk ghosted across Robin's features at the mention of the tale. He knew that had been coming. Back leaned against a tree, arms crossed, he kept half his attention half on the gathering, half upon the fringe of the grove. Concern scribbled deeply across his mind with a tinge of unease. Two hours had passed since Regina had parted. Where was she? Had the clothes fit?

Allan wiped away greasy driblets from his chin with the curb of his hand, chuckles still falling from his mouth. "Alright. Now that you told us how Robin blundered tell us the real news. What's happening in the big wide world?"

That was what most of them ached to hear. While they liked their lives in the wood lands still they hungered for gossip and news upon the winds of wars and peaces and kings and queens.

"A dark shadow in the east," John grunted carelessly. "They say some phenomena is going on. Nothing serious though. No trouble reported from ogres or the like," he blustered a laugh. "Not like that concerns us Robin, right?" He looked up. "Robin…?"

"Huh? What?" The thief briskly tossed his head as though shaking water from his lock and focused his attention upon them.

Concern glittered warmly in John's eyes from across the blaze. "Every thing all right, Robin?"

How could he divulge to them what gnawed his heart? How could he say his mind was on her? They would scowl and curse, their mood ruined if he told them what danced across his thoughts.

"Nothing to worry about, John." He tossed his head. "I'm just going to take a little walk."

Before any could speak a word for good or ill he strode off into the woods. Guilt heavily panged his heart with a hammers blow as he disappeared through the foliage. Part of him knew he couldn't leave them so suddenly. They would worry and talk in the guttering of the flames but he had to know.

Slowing his pace, he stopped undecidedly in the woods. Of course he had had a weak excuse to the lads, but he had to know if she was….

Even as the thoughts flew into him, she appeared before him. There was no hesitation in her steps telling him in some way she knew he had been near. She had been so silent he had almost not seen her, but as she appeared through his dim thicket he gazed upon her. Oh yes he saw her and she took his breath away. His heart fluttered incongruously in his chest.

The tailor, from just a picture had done a wonderfully accurate job. Leather boots of brown lined with rabbit fur came up to her knees. Her breeches were the same forest green as his and all the lads. A brown leather belt hung upon her lovely hips with a gold colored buckle. Already a calf hide sheath hung upon her belt for a knife, with only the weapon missing. A tunic of the same forest green hung tight over her body like a second leather skin. Clasped by a black wolf fang, a cloak of the same green and fringed with more pale brown rabbit fur hung lightly upon her back.

Clean and neat now her silky raven hair hung past her ears. Her skin was a tad pale like the moon when the delicate beams glowed heavenly through the tress on an autumn's night.

Slipping fully out of the forest veils the former witch rubbed her hands along the outside her thighs nervously. Stare half icy, half wary, she cast cat him a glance. "So," she sighed lightly and intrepidly dabbed her lips with her tongue. "How do I look?"

In any other circumstance she never would have asked but the clothes given to her were for utility. They were meant to cloak. They would do no good if she could not be invisible in them or at least be endowed with a mix of camouflage.

For once, the archer had nothing to say. His eyes amorously rallied upon her with insurmountable feeling. How many things he could have said of her all seemed inefficient, paltry, unworthy. They would never do her justice. Not in a thousand years.

"Well?" A hint of impatient yanked him out of his coma as she imperiously snapped at him. She seemed upon as much baited breath as he.

A half smile stole upon his lips as he stared at her. "You fit right in. A true lady of the woods, Regina," he declared truthfully with all his heart. A truly beautiful lady.


	9. Visits

Time, like all things, must go on. Time is a sun going round and around bringing light to darkness and darkness to light. That is the very nature of time; not ever able cease its trek until the job is done. Time passes as fine sand through a child's fingers. The stream of life flows discrepantly towards the sea of eternity without ever drying. Life must go on, beginnings and ends must float to their destinations upon the waters of time, and just so must the seasons change.

Little my little time was coaxing the realms along. Summer's fiery heat was transmuting into subdued fall. The days became shorter over the restored world as though some soul decided to snuff out the candle of the sun early. A shiver of coolness increasingly nipped through the warm air in the early morn. Frost framed the ground on some mornings turning the dead leaves into bejeweled works. The fields were fecundate, golden patches upon the tranquil earth awaiting to be reaped from the land. Geese flew in gray arrow heads south and the garbed trees had began to loose their glorious plume to lustrous bold colors of the fall.

The time for harvest fluttered like a banner upon the realms to tell of the arrival of winter not far to come. Like all the realm, even the camp of Robin Hood needed to prepare and reap the riches of the wild forest for food when the cold winter winds struck their faces.

Dark stains coated Regina's hands as she plucked blackberries from a large green bramble. Fat, juicy berries hung heavily upon their prickly vines as though they awaited to be taken up by her hands. The camp of outlaws had their own means of gathering food for the winter and now she was a part of that.

The bramble of blackberries was a rather strange tangle situated in a clear coppice in very midst's the wilds. A few spindly dogwoods clustered closely together but made enough of a clearing to let sustainable light through into the southern woods. At some point the seeds had taken root and a prosperous network of blackberry bushes garlanded the copse in a pleasant bower.

By herself she never would have stumbled across the prosperous grove but with her expanding knowledge of forest ways she was learning all the secrets the merry men kept close. Involuntarily a smile creased her mouth as another thought slipped into her contemplations. That indeed was part of her gaining their knowledge, along with a few hints dropped from eager little boys who apparently waited all year for blackberries.

Over to her right the little lad in question that sprang to her thought kneeled happily an arms length away. Head down to the lower part of the bramble he half played and half worked in a patched carpet of grass. His grubby little hands where more stained than hers with the purplish, black fluid and seemed to paint everything he touched. His round face was splattered with juices from the nose down and he seemed as though he had bathed in blackberry rather than reaped them.

"Do you think Allan will make blackberry jam Miss Regina?" Roland inquired curiously, his lips smacking in scrumptious satisfaction. He wiped his right sleeve over his messy mouth, dying the fabric with an indelible smear of purple.

A fond smile crept upon the witches face as she dumped a handful of deliciously plump berries into a nearly full, tawny haversack. "I can't say for certain," she admitted tactfully with an almost playful air, "but he won't have anything to make if you keep eating them all."

He really was fond of blackberries. They were a treat he waited all year to collect. No one begrudged him eating all he wanted, and besides, she noted perceptively, there were far too many blackberries to be picked anyway.

"But they're so good," Roland bubbled frustratingly in his childish way toward his undeniable avarice. He was a rapacious little fellow when focused on the slightly tart berries. His brow beetled thoughtfully into a thin line as though caught in a tricky circumstance. "I just mean to take one, then I eat bunches and bunches."

Regina's shoulders slightly jumped in a shrug as she snaked her hand through the thorny bramble for a few berries that skulked in the shadows of a bowed leaf. "Well why don't you go play somewhere else to keep the temptation away?" she suggested craftily and turned her head to him. A small grin gently tipped her lips at the suggestion. Her sable hair framed her pale visage as she nudged her head to the woods.

"Good idea!" Little Roland wobbled unsteadily to his feet. Chest puffed out he curled his tiny hands to his side in a manner he thought denoted a heroic pose. "I'll defend the blackberries from bears!" he decided importantly.

Scooping up a last little handful of the treat, the child warrior tottered out into the thicker woods. Plump little berries fell from his grip and trailed him with each bouncing step before he disappeared into the forest almost as well as his father.

A wider smile stole infectiously upon Regina's lips as she watched him leave. The boy's antics were precious. Lightly shaking her head, she sobered and turned to get back to work filling the last sack.

"Well, well, well, a pleasant little activity here," a familiar, all too familiar, voice mockingly chirped from behind the former witch.

In an instant all tenderness dried up like the summers warmth inside the former queen. Her muscles knotted into steel cords as the trill shivered unpleasantly through the summer air. She knew that voice. Oh yes, she would have known that voice till the end of her days.

Almost like magic any ounce of gentleness faded like mist upon a summer's morn. The words were like a spear into her back that wrought forth the curtailed evil monarch within.

Jerking her hand haphazardly through the dagger-like thorns as though she had spotted a viper, the witch cursed the man, if he could even be called that. Sharp points pierced into her skin with the heedless action. Long streaks of crimson ichors trailed from her hands as the thorns met flesh but she barely noticed the pain. How could she mind such brief hurt with the man who had set her disastrous course in motion stood so near?

Anger billowed foul smoke into her bright heart to cloud the little ray of contentment she let shine through. At once utter darkness scrawled across her heart, her attitude once more the vile witch that had been a queen only so few months back.

Quickly she carelessly tossed the thoughts of blackberries to the wind as she stood up and around in one smooth motion.

Cold hatred intricately swarmed her hard face. There was only person, one beast, that impish voice belonged. "Rumpelstiltskin," she muttered, her voice hemmed with lowly with insufferable hatred.

Before her, the manipulator, her tutor, the beast, the Dark One stood in the glade. Nothing had changed about him. His clothes were still dragon hide and fit close over his weedy frame, his skin still gleamed like flecks of gold lodged betwixt the green-gray scales. Back in Storybrooke he had been the wily Mr. Gold but now in their true land he had reentered back to the scaled beast inside and out that he had always been.

In fact the only that had changed about seeing him again was her.

Onyx eyes rife with cunning, intricately perused her as they stood there face to face. His tactile vision dictated every inch of her to his mind as though she were some new abomination. She could see him mark the clothes, the stains, the gleam in her eye, and tuck them all away as ammunition for some later date. As always he was searching, planning, putting her into a useful niche.

How she hated him.

"My, my you have gotten along haven't you? I thought you would have been a starving, haggard mess by now. I'm surprised Regina, you look rather well." A wicked grin split his scaled face. "No so much regally though," he quipped, his voice a high titter. Nimbly, the fiend padded towards her like a stalking wolf. Circling about her, he muttered incessantly to himself as he inspected her. "How different you have become, Dearie. Traded your pearls for woodsman rags! I can't say I'm sad to see you like this; brought down a peg or two."

After all she had done to him and his love, truly to see her no longer the haughty queen brought immense pleasure to his blood. Satisfaction thrilled through him akin to a warm dram of spirits. She was brought low and no amount of high noble air could wipe away what she was now.

Eyes cold as russet rocks, the witch stared loathingly at the fiend as he rounded back before her. "It's been some time, Rumpel dear." She adopted her cool, in control demeanor. Her lips formed a replete, annoyed line about her visage that hid her curtained emotions. Clasping her hands before her, her head canted ever so slightly to the left, she stared back challengingly at the magical monster. "Tell me, are you finally done moping about your lost Baelfire? Did the bookworm finally let you off your leash or did she at long last come to see what you truly are and run from you?"

Not much had changed with the Dark One since their trip into Neverland, Regina could detail with her perception alone. Belle was the only one who could quell the selfish beast he was and help coax and cajole whatever little goodness he had to light. There was darkness in him and always would be as long as he was the Dark One.

"Belle and I are grand thank you," happily returned the fiend, unfazed by her waspish tongue. A cruel smile wormed upon his thing gray mouth. "We're going to start a family soon. Family," he exuberantly regaled in a painful taunt. "Do you remember what that's like?"

Agony stabbed a dagger viscously into Regina's raw soul and turned the hurtful blade but she fought back the pain with a stalwart will. Rumpel always did know how to hit hard. "What did you come for, Dark One?" Regina queried stonily, her voice a merciless tundra.

"A little bit of investigation mostly," Rumpelstiltskin revealed carelessly with a flippant wave of his hand. Dancing a step back, he turned from her to pace. "There has been a dark being in the east." He fluttered his talons off handedly as though the words were of no concern. "I wanted to see if you were responsible in some way. I needed to make certain you had not found magic again or something insidiously alarming of that nature."

"That's it?" a disconsolate scoff angrily fled her timbre. Disbelief twisted her lush lips into a sneer of disgust. Still they thought she was up to no good? "I loose my magic, my power, my dignity, and I'm number one on your list of suspects?"

In some way though, she assented begrudgingly, the thought was one of pride. They still feared she could make a comeback. That tiny dark kernel was always housed in the back of their minds, ready to be taken and planted in the forefront of their thoughts with the slightest provocation. Magic-less, banished, deposed, and yet still they quivered at her name. That, if nothing else, was worthy of a bit of dark pride.

The fiend snickered nastily, his midnight eyes twinkling at her in a sidelong glance. "To be fair you have good reason to be," he mocked in his impish timbre. "You know, casting a dark curse and all. Who knows if you were," he paused for a moment and struck a flamboyantly mocking pose, "pining for revenge for a harsh sentence of banishment from those you yourself once hunted. Secondly," his tone softened faintly, more human sounding as he turned fully to her again, "It's almost fall." His voided black depths warmed a trifle. "I have come to collect you in a week's time to go see your son."

Astounded breath tightly hitched in Regina's throat at the mention of such wondrous news. Her bloody, scarred hand arose to her chest as though to clasp her heart and still the fluttering organ. Cries of delight wished to spring like a fountain from her lips but no words would come.

Henry. She would get to see Henry again! Her umber eyes gleamed like faceted jewels with the power his name evoked. To see Henry again! "I-."

"Regina, watch out!" Robin Hood shouted luridly through the thicket as he scrambled to her right. Alarm hemmed his voice such as she heard only when Roland was in mortal peril.

Wood and string creaked dangerously through the air as he appeared in the copse. A goose feathered arrow sat notched and drawn in the bow awaiting to be released. His eyes pinioned upon the Dark One firmly, never once leaving the beast in the midst of the glade.

Slowly the Dark One turned to the man. Claws akimbo, he pointed an accusatory claw towards the archer. His black eyes sparkled darkly with recognition. Indeed he would never forget the brazen man who had trekked so confidently into the Dark Castle all his days. "You," he whispered out, his eyes narrowing.

Confused, the witch looked from archer to Dark One. Thin lines furrowed her features with confusion. "You two know each other?" How in all the realms had they met and why?

"I'm acquainted with the beast," Robin growled perniciously through barely parted lips. How could he forget the beast who boasted to his prisoner as he tortured him about skinning him alive once he was finished with his torments!

The fiend nodded succinctly, his eyes stapled upon the bandit. "I know this thief as well. He tried to rob from me once."

"Successfully if you recall," returned the outlaw, brazenly cheeky. "Flickering a hectic, spare glance to the witch, the bandit nudged his head to the other part of the woods. "Find Roland and run back to camp. He's dangerous."

The thought of the imp getting his hands on Regina or Roland was unacceptable. Rage pulsed through his heart with but the frantic thought of them in any part of the fate he had undergone whilst in the Dark One's vile clutches. Fury boiled his blood into mist that set his soul into a conflagration. He had to protect them, even if to give then a moment to escape.

"Only successful because my Belle took pity on you," the fiend returned sharply, glee devoid of his voice. Staring unblinkingly at the archer, he seemed as though he debated some inward recourse.

For an instant he appeared as though he would wipe Robin Hood from the face of the realms. His talons curled into a fist by his side as he stared on and on, locked in a silent battle with himself and the archer. Wisps of dusky purple power curled akin to a playfully venomous serpent about his hand. Power crackled dangerously through the air awaiting to be unleashed like a summer storm.

Abruptly as though remembering some deed, some words of goodness, the magician backed down. Because of this Robin Hood he had been made closer to Belle. That alone was enough to spare his miserable life.

Breathing deep, he let his hand relax. "Be grateful my wife's influences have rubbed off on me, thief," he stated lowly and swiveled back to Regina. Pointing a black nailed claw at her, he fell back into the tittering maniac he was. "A week, Regina. Don't forget."

Flourishing his hand through the air, a vortex of dark damson power enshrouded him, taking him off to another place away from the woods.

"A week? What did he mean by a week?" Robin queried breathlessly as he jogged to her from the edge of the trees.

Bow still notched but lowered he cast a quick glance around as though the Dark One was merely hiding behind a tree. Concern wrinkled his roguish visage with furrows of confusion. Alarm danced openly in his eyes as he reached her. Eyes frantic he searched her for any misgivings. "You didn't make a deal with him did you?"

Though worry clogged his mind half of him wanted to laugh at her betwixt his trepidation. Only being about Regina could he leave for no less than five minutes from their berry picking and come back with the former evil queen bandying insults and words with the most powerful sorcerer in all the realms!

Regina shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest. Her lips molded into a sneer, disgusted by the ridiculous thought. "With him? Never again. Even if I was so inclined he would never deal with me. His little Belle wouldn't let him," she remarked dryly, her eyes pinioned upon the last place the magical monster had stood. "As clemency in my banishment I get to see my son at the beginning of every season. He… he'll take me to see my son in a week," she breathed lowly as though the words were nearly too incredible so speak.

A week. Her heart shuddered at the words assaulted the barrier of her heart like ballista missiles. Wet glittered in her eyes with the word. Week. A week and she would hug and touch and hold her son for one day. In only a week she would see the boy she had raised for a decade. Whom she had rocked and comforted and cared for. A week.

"I see," relief exhaled from Robin's lips in a gusty blow, his lips curled into a deliberating half smile. Abruptly he tensed again as his first priority shimmered back to life. Twisting and turning his body around, he scanned the bramble pointedly. "Where's Roland?" Alarm weaseled into his voice again.

"Here I am, paw paw!" Little Roland crashed through the thicket breathlessly just like his father had done a minute before. His tiny chest heaved heavily as he bounded through the undergrowth with his cloak snagging and snapping little sticks and dragging behind carelessly. A stick was curled tightly in his stained, tiny right hand ready to fend off anything from bears to dragons. "I heard you yell so I came right back." He nodded obediently in a well learned way.

A relaxed smile slowly shrouded upon Robin's face, his visage softening into ease once more. "Good boy, Roland." Indolently sheathing his arrow behind his back, he smiled warmly at his son. "I'd say we have enough berries. Why don't you lead the way back to camp and me and Regina will follow your lead."

Proud to be given such an honor the little lad marched into the direction of the camp.

A little chuckle fled Robin's mouth as he slipped this bow across a shoulder and bent down to scoop up the filled haversacks. Quickly sliding the straps over his free shoulder he began to follow his son at a far enough pace.

Following his lead, Regina picked up the remaining haversacks and trailed with the outlaw. Consternation faintly wrinkled her flawless brow as she caught up with him. There was only one reason they were lagging behind.

"You want to talk," Regina noted immediately as she fell into vapid step with the outlaw through the thick undergrowth. That had to be the only reason he let Roland lead. Though she did not know the bandit well, she could justly surmise his intentions.

A smirk tilted upon the bandit's mouth. "Well that depends, Regina." He cast her a sidelong glace. "Do you?"

Knowing she would see her son in a weeks time had to have rocked her, he knew implicitly. He had never seen her as vulnerable as he had in that moment with the Dark One. The boy meant as much to her as Roland did to him.

Silence pulsed between them with every step they took. The dry twigs and autumnal leaves were the only thing that evoked noise as they trailed just far enough behind to leave Roland in sight and speak without any other who might cock an ear their way.

"I haven't seen my son into the past three months," Regina stated softly, her voice rife with pain she kept bottled deep in the pits of her scarred, black heart. "Everyday I think of him. Every hour, every moment I think of him in some way." Hot, crystal tears tremulously rimmed her soft brown eyes. "I have dreamed of this day, but I just… maybe he doesn't want to see me. What if he's happy with his new life with the insufferable Charming's? What if he has… what if he no longer has the love for me he once had?"

Why had she chosen to open up to him, she pondered heavily? Why did he always seem to coax open the castle of her heart and let her spill the words of her soul? And why was she so relived when he did?

Robin nodded sagely to her freely spoken words. They were like precious pearls for he doubted many would have had a peek into what worried Regina. She was an indefatigable woman who faced the world unblinkingly, stalwartly ready to deal as good as she got, save those moments she divulged to him.

Brow knotted faintly, his spoke the matter he thought she lay before him. "You fear he will see you only out of obligation and your love will not be returned?" he posed precociously.

A dark wince tremulously shivered the witch at his words. He had hit the nail on the proverbial head, Regina knew emphatically. The dread thought clamped icy talons about her soul and squeezed until she thought her life would slip away in a frozen, sanguine phantom.

"You would be surprised how many times that has happened to me," she reveled lowly, her bottom lip quivering. A single tear spilled down her pale cheek but she assiduously brushed the object of her open emotion away with the heel of her hand. "Love is something I always seem to lose. And unlike the Charming's I can never seem to find it again."

Her father, mother, Daniel, Owen, and hordes of others. Anyone she dared show the smallest scrap of ardor always fell away from her, either by her hand of their own or some sick twist of fate that enjoyed her utterly abysmal unhappiness.

She was never allowed to love for long. Never.

Compassion for the ex-queen swelled like a burning tide in the archer chest. The urge to simply wrap her up and soothe her danced in his thoughts but he spurned the foolish notion. She would probably stab an arrow in his neck for taking such liberties if he dared.

Stopping dead in his tracks, he placed a hand upon her shoulder. His entire body swiveled to her so that he was face to face with the woman he had saved in the woods. An encouraging look adorned his face in perceptible gentility. "I have never met your son but if he loves you with as half the vigor as you love him then you will be alright. Love is not so easily sundered away." He smiled comfortingly to her, his voice soft as his eyes. "You'll see when you get there there'll have been nothing at all to worry over."

Despite herself, Regina felt hope glow through. How easily could he coax a shred of faith from her heart. Why could he summon up a wellspring of optimist from the barren land of her spirit?

"Maybe you're right," Regina assented agreeably in a low sigh, enraptured in his eyes that held her. "For once." A small laugh escaped her lips.

In a moment the spell was broken and they continued their walk in silence.

Inwardly, Regina's mind whirled, filled with both desolation and warmth. Both vied for dominance but the archer's words so fresh in her mind they seemed to supercede the cold words of her poisoned heart. Maybe things wouldn't be so bad. Maybe she was just overreacting. Maybe….

~8~8~

"You can do this Regina," the former monarch encouraged herself nervously. Her words slipped past barely pried apart lips as she stalked through the small gray gravel path that led to the glade where she would commune with her son.

True to his word Rumpelstiltskin had arrived a week later and taken her to the destination she chose. The magic had enshrouded them and done the deed and now she was here, alone in familiar ground walking to see her son.

Nothing seemed to have changed about the land whilst she was away. The woods about her tenaciously clung to summer. The stripped birches and elms and hickories sagged with their still green canopies. Wild flowers beaded the path in spots of blue and purple and yellow heads that bobbed to landed bees and the playful wind.

Trepidation clawed at her heart and scrambled up her throat in a boulder sized lump as he trekked the familiar path. All sights of clinging summer seemed gray in her visions as worry raged through her. The weeks worries all came crashing down at once. How would he see her? Would he be only polite? Would he still feel the same? Would he show at all?

Her feet scraped across the stony causeway as she stalked through the snaking trail. All at once the path bended suddenly and ended into sight of the glade. The grove was a modest retreat for any monarch who needed to think in silence and beauty. Lush grass carpeted the sunny spot and ancient gray stone benches sat under even older trees. The sun obliquely filtered through the lattice canopy and dabbled the grass with light and shadow.

And there, in the midst of the tranquil retreat, stood Henry.

For only a few months he seemed to be a different boy entirely. He had sprung up like a summer weed after a rain. His hair was a darker brown from being long in the sun and his entire body seemed in the midst of being crafted by expert hands from boy to man. He wore blue cotton tunic and breeches and boots along with the tabard of the kingdom upon his torso.

A golden hilted, perhaps the biggest change, blade hung at his hip, the mark of knights training and nobility.

Henry was as she had seen many princling from other realms. He was becoming a knight, a king in training.

Even with all her wariness, a smile came to Regina's mouth. Tears brimmed in her copper eyes she did not try to fight back. Henry. Henry!

"Mom!" Henry called out ecstatically as he spotted her in the bend. Jubilation painted his face, his visage still that of a boy only mingled with hints of puberty. He looked at her as though the sun rose with her awakening.

Racing to her, the lad sprang across the greenery unto the path. His feet kicked off the loose rock in his perilous run. Closing the distance between them the growing boy wrapped his arms about her in a tremendous hug. "Mom," he echoed again, his voice strained.

Closing her eye the witch placed her head upon the crown of her son's head and clapped him in a hug. Her fingers stroke his soft brown hair with a familiar grace she had so long missed. Tears squeezed from past her lids as she thrilled to see him. "Henry," she spoke his name like an answered prayer, and in a way her supplication had been heeded. He was there, with the same exact love in his eyes. And that, that was enough. "Sweetie I've missed you so much," she bubbled carelessly, her cold walls rubble as she hugged him close.

"I've missed you to, mom," he gushed empathically. "These four months have felt like forever."

To Regina, he might as well have been reading her own heart. They had been forever and she had longed for the day to hold him again.

Stoically sniffing back her tears she disentangled them and looked at him again now closer. Hands on his shoulders, she held him back to get a full picture of him. A watery smile laced with pride perched upon her lips. "I can't even believe this is you, Henry. Look at you, you're practically grown into a full princling."

"Me?" laughter shredded from his mouth. "Look at you. You look so different now." His laughter softened as he smiled gently. "You look good."

Laughter at herself nearly fell from the queens lips. She must have looked quite a sight to the boy who normally only saw her in neatly ironed pants suits and gowns all his life. Her whole life had changed and so had his.

Smiling warily, the boy looked at her with the same wary look he did when he was in trouble or had to bring up a prickly topic. "I was afraid of what might have happened to you out there," he admitted vapidly.

"I told you before Henry," she comforted him gently, her voice threaded with a laugh. "You don't have to worry about me."

Of course if Robin Hood hadn't found her that would have been a different tale, but he did not need to know the hardships she had faced before falling in league with the band. No matter what she refused to leave him with a sense of trepidation for her.

"But let's not talk about such things." Regina wrapped an arm about his shoulders and led him to a stone bench in the shadow of an elm. "I want to know everything that's been happening with you. Don't leave out anything."

As they sat below the elms leaves, their eyes barely leaving one another, they both drank deep of the cup of togetherness after a long, long time of separation.

~8~8~

Darkness long enthralled the world before the Dark One deposited Regina back to the woods leagues and leagues away from her son. The sky was a clear velvet bed embedded with diamonds upon the sable firmament. Silver beams radiated from the clipped coin in the sky and gilded the forest with faint luminance.

A cool breeze nipped pleasantly through the trees and rocked them lightly with the herald of fall. Day by day the nights were growing colder, the days cool. Summers dominance was slowly retreating to the armies of fall. The leaves were beginning to turn and the smells of harvest wafted through the air. Yes, autumn was certainly coming.

Regina breathed deep, her soul soothed as she began the short walk back to camp. Arms wrapped about herself to hold her cloak tight, she enjoyed the cool of the night upon her flesh as her heart replayed the day.

Seeing Henry had put a peace in her heart she had not felt in ages. They had talked and talked until there voices grew hoarse. She had watched, enraptured as he showed her his sword techniques and spoke over every aspect of life they could compound in a single day.

The only wound that remained was that she would have to wait until winter to see him again. But at least, she comforted inwardly, she would see him again. Oh was there any greater boon in all the known realms?

All was silent and still into he camp as the ex-queen finally entered from the south side. Every man was in his particular place. The lookouts napped in the forks in the trees with their weapon leaned against their slowly rising chests, others slept like rocks in their tents and Little John was asleep by his rock, his head bows to his chest and snores roaring.

Each familiarity came as a spot of utmost comfort to the soothed witch. How odd that she would know intricately how they worked; their sleeping styles their routines. How curious she felt comforted in that fact even if they were on less than amiable terms.

Tired sigh silently smoothing across her lips the witch marched over to her normal place by the fire. The flames lapped lowly about the charred wood with a bright blue. Red and orange pulsed inside the devoured logs as though some ball went on in the midst of the pit.

A little laugh escaped Regina's throat as she looked down into the smoldering fire. If anyone had told her she would gaze with comfort to some fire in the middle of the woods when she had been queen, she would have thought them mad as Jefferson. Now, being there seemed… what she couldn't place, but it was something… different.

"You look like you could use a drink," Robin observed as he appeared from his tent. A skin of wine dangled heavily from his right hand as he walked up to her by the smoldering blaze.

A brief smile curled her lips. After her time with Henry icy nature was thawed a trifle. "Actually, yes, that would be nice," she laughed lowly. In fact, a drink sounded about the best way to end the day.

Nodding lightly the archer uncorked the skein. "So," Arm outstretched to her he let her take up the skin. "How'd it go?"

Taking a quick swig the witch let the taste of poor, sour wine swish in her mouth. The crude brew was warm and lasted of leather, but comfortingly nonetheless. "Much better than I had hoped," she admitted almost introspectively. Her eyes flashed a glance his way. "I got myself worried up about nothing."

"Why do you say that?" He crossed his arms, his head canted to the left as he looked at her. The gleam of red from the fire shimmered in his whiskey eyes almost with a look of cunning admiration for her.

With a last swig of the spirits, she passed the skin back to him. "Because," victory hinted her voice, her lips triumphantly pinned into a smug smirk. "He called me mom, and no matter what Emma Swan is to him, no matter how much he grows to adore them and love them. I will always be his mother."

Silently the archer studied her. He had never seen her so jubilant and alive with passion. The words she spoke were a balm to poultice her heart. She could endure now. She would endure.

"Well you must have had a pretty full day," Robin grunted laconically and swirled the spirits in the skin. "You're probably tired." He heaved his shoulders in carefree shrug, a sly smile coming to his lips. "While you were gone I, uh, found a spare tent. It's yours if you desire," the bandit offered casually as he took a gulp of wine himself.

The witch perched a brow to hide her surprise. "Really? What sparked such thoughtfulness this time, backwoodsman?"

"Utility and symbol," Hood admittedly freely. Studiously corking the skin, he gestured inconsequently with the canteen. "Autumn nears. You can't freeze to death by the fire," he chuckled lightly then sobered. "And to show you, that even if he did not show you the same love you showed him, that you have something here. This, a home if you would like."

Softness incommutably swam upon Regina's visage with his thoughtfulness. His words were like the warm wine in her belly only laced upon every inch of her. A half smile crept over her lush mouth. "Why do you keep doing these things for me?" she asked plainly, her timbre bewildered.

Heaven only knew she didn't deserve his kindness.

Robin shrugged helplessly. "If I knew myself, Regina," he sighed into a smile, "I would tell you."

A huff of soft laughter snorted from the witch at his ever indelible wit. "You're lucky I'm in such a good mood to put up with you, backwoodsman," she spoke the name almost fondly. "I suppose you've earned a thank you this time."

"I shall treasure you thanks dearly," he parried jestingly with an irascible smile and pointed out the newest tent.

Erected near a bent elm the tent stood another peak in the series of domiciles that spotted the glade. Red and black the tent seemed to fit her. Others were pitched before her own, hers slightly apart, but mingled in nonetheless.

Bidding him goodnight the former monarch strode to a place finally she could finally call her own. As she reached the tent flaps a soft smile crept upon her lips. The name of what to call the camp finally struck her dead in the chest. Home. That was what she felt the place was - a home.

Head bowed she let the goodness of the day along with his gift fill her. Darkness and sanguine despondency had no thrall over her in that moment. Hope and goodness dared peak out. Perhaps life was not so terrible after all.

~8~8~

A low impish chuckle scattered mischievously from Rumpelstiltskin's lips as he watched them both part to their separate tents. Giddiness bubbled in him with intolerable conniving humor. Oh this was just too good.

Like a shadow he melted further into the dark woods, giggling all the while. "Oh Regina, Regina, what are you getting yourself into!" he trilled in his high pitched way. For all his power to pry into the future even he hadn't been able to see that coming.

Though he no longer dabbled in others affairs, to see things occur in the twisted strands of fate that had already been tangled by life discrepancies and oddities entertained him to know end. To watch as a bystander as life unfolded was better than any fair, joust, or play in all the realms.

Snapping his dexterous talons the magical monster called forth magic to teleport him back home. As the power cocooned him a clever smirk donned his lips. He couldn't wait to tell his Belle.

Arriving at the Dark Castle the fiend laughed aloud as he strode through the vestibule. The entire castle was black, without a torch to illuminate his way, but the darkness barely bothered him. The entire castle would seem so much brighter once he spoke to his love.

"Belle you will never guess what-" he paused in horror at the sight before him as he entered the great hall.

The hall for the normal brightness that pulse about the room, was gone. A deep, encroaching, unctuous darkness fell about the room and the denizens within.

Long green spears of magical mist netted over his Belle like a mystical prison. The green bars were magical but they could have just as well have been made of the hardest stone. Armaments of sword and maces and daggers all formed of magic hovered just an inch from her neck.

Dried tears stained her blue and purple bruised face as she stood on tip toe to avoid the conjure weapons from spearing into her. Both eyes were black and a deep scar sliced horizontally upon her left cheek. Dried blood mingled with the tracts of tears blotted her face in a menagerie of gore and pain.

"What won't we guess, Rumpel dear?" a voice the mystical fiend had not heard in many, many years cackled tauntingly through the drafty air of the Dark Castle. Clad in the shadow of the main hall, a tall, slender figure leaned cockily in the darkness by his spinner's wheel.

A wide brimmed felt black hat adumbrated the intruder's eyes from view. Nothing could be seen of the specter but the lower portion of their face in the green glow of intangible power.

"Please," the voice chuckled dangerously, a marsh green, smug smile twitching upon their lips, "do tell."


	10. Questions

The third tenuous day of autumn was a time that did the former faded season incalculable justice. An Indian summer's dry heat hunt heavily through the air with the last defiant breath of the defeated summer. The sapphire sky was a cloudless lake of endless cerulean that went on forever. Heat simmered inclemently throughout the land in one last torrent of scorching temperatures. Greenery still donned most to the trees, not yet shed of their ornate malachite gowns and the flowers still reached their bright bonnet-ed heads to the heavens.

For the day, the season was as if summer had never departed.

To Robin Hood the day was a perfect day for important activities. Such as bathing.

Splashing in solitary relaxation from a hard morning's work of preparing for the winter, the notorious archer busied himself in the business of cleanliness. He scooped coarse, tawny sand into his hands and scrubbed vigorously at his sinewy body, shed the months work from his skin, and let the slow waters steal his troubles away for a time. Snatches of tunes hummed and droned lazily from his lips in bucolic enchantment as he enjoyed some quality time alone.

Though his men never spent more the five minutes clearing the gunk from their rough forms he allowed himself the perks of a long luxurious bath in the cold water on a hot day. In his gut he knew it'd be the last for a long time.

Combing his bow callous digits through this drenched brown locks, the archer languidly exhaled a sigh of ease. The silvery water rippled and wavered about him with discontent whilst he broke the surface from the snaking tributary. A fume of gray mist spewed from his lips as he resurfaced like a mermaid from the cold waters. A half smile donned his mouth as he shook his head like a wet dog. Droplets of waters spattered akin to rain upon the steady steams surface with the action.

Oh he did love a good soak.

"Enjoying your bath, backwoodsman?" Regina asked cunningly from the pebbly shore.

Stunned by the voice, the bandit wiped his eyes free of water. Blinking rapidly he turned his vision to focus in on the sunny bank. As the water cleared from his eyes, so to did his vision clear to the shapes smeared slanted upon the bank. Perched precariously on a sun-warmed charcoal hued boulder the former witch looked down at him.

Her maple eyes gleamed in the brilliant sunlight like copper coins. Lips tilted unto a duplicitous smirk she sat enjoying the enticing view. To her left his neatly laid out clothes he had set to dry lay beside her. They were not his normal clothes for they took special care. Instead they were a rough off white linen tunic and soft green cloth breeches along with his brown boots.

Embarrassment filled the archer with a power he did not know existed. Heat fired through his cheeks but the creek was too cloudy to see if any red adorned his cheeks. Why, how, had she gotten there without his knowledge? Tranquility of the peaceful moment shattered like a glass vase in his heart, the ambient shards wedging in his normal flagrant demeanor.

First a bit of enjoyment and now this...

Ducking lower under the swift moving, unclear waters until only his pectorals showed, he gazed at her from atop her loft. "Yes, thank you for asking," he replied incorrigibly polite. Eye puckered he looked about as though someone else might catch him. "I didn't expect anyone to be down here today." He looked back up, his eyes narrowed as though looking into the sun. "I was just about done. Would you be so kind as to hand me my clothes?"

Looking down at his clothes, a coy smirk donned her lips. "Mm?" Regina mused thoughtfully, her smug smirk nearly intolerable as she considered his words. "No." Her fingertips glided ever so slightly over the white cord of his undershirt. How often did someone catch Robin Hood with his pants down, or more specifically off and in their clutches?

Shaking his head again free of water, a sardonic smile perched upon his mouth. "Rather bad form don't you think? Holding a man's clothes hostage?"

After all he had done for her and she chose to abducted his clothes? The thought came in jest and he hid a smile. Was she becoming the daring one now?

"I don't see things quite so obtusely." Wry mischievousness cleverly laced the witch's voice. "After all this time I have finally been able to get the jump on my benefactor."

In truth she had stumbled upon him on accident. She had only meant to take a stroll under the cool shade, ever thinking of Henry, when she had heard his splashing. She had taken the moment and sprang upon the vulnerability.

"However you see things, the fact remains I need my clothes," he remarked steadfastly, his head nudging to the garments almost pleadingly. "You know," he remarked cheekily, "Before I start to prune."

Regina nodded astutely, her demeanor cool regality. "And so you shall have them…."

"But?" he filled in the missing word. Though she seemed to mean no harm he knew all to well getting his clothes back would not come cheap. He had seen enough ransoms to know where her thought was headed.

A small smirk tilted Regina's lush mouth. Leaning on her right hand, she grinned victoriously at the wet bandit. "Something occurred to me last night as I went to bed," she began, her grin fading a bit. "I have told you about my son, you know as much as anyone about my life, but I find that I only know your name. Robin Hood." She spoke the name slowly as though saving a tangy wine. Lifting up his tunic she lofted the garment high enough for him to see. "So I shall cut a deal with you. For every item I give back to you, I get to ask a question, and you answer."

So that was her price, he noted introspectively - information.

Turing the offer over in his mind, the archer weighed the price. He really had not so much in his life to hide. Most of his men already knew the ins and out of his existence, even the most painful. What could divulging the information to her hurt?

"And if I refuse?" the bandit inquired pensively.

Lacing her fingers together, the former witch sat her hands on an upraised knee. Smirk never fading she quirked her brow almost smugly. "Well." She looked vapidly about the snaking tributary and the forest line in feigned boredom before her gaze turned back to him. "I don't have anywhere in particular to be."

Fighting a grimace the archer stared at the burbling silver water as though salvation was to be had there. Silver scales of a trout glinted in the suns rays upon the water but that was all he noticed in his present conundrum. Nothing else presented itself to give him aid.

Shoulders slumping, the archer frowned in mock defeat into the foggy liquid. "I was afraid of that," the bandit remarked in mock dejection. "Aright Regina," he assented in a sanguine sigh. "Release my garments and your demand will be met."

Smiling victoriously the witch tossed him his tunic. The rough linen article fluttered through the soft breeze and landed close on the brown and gray pebbles. "One." She grinned and tossed his boots. The pair flew ungraciously through the air and landed turned over on their sides to the right of the tunic. "Two." Fingers pinched at the very edge of his leggings as though she held something intolerably disgusting she cast the breeches his way. "Three." breeches landed only an arms length away from the water.

Quickly the witch stood and wiped her hands on her leggings. "Three questions backwoodsman." She nimbly scaled the sun warmed rock to leave him to dress. "I'll be waiting at the forest fringe." She backed away and disappeared into the rough wilds, her smirk never once fading.

"Insufferable woman," Robin grumbled impertinently as he sloshed through the warm water for his clothes. Even though he was displeased with her recourse a smile tipped his lips at her gumption. She certainly did find ways to liven up his days now and again.

The gray silt and smooth gleaming pebbles of silver of the disrupted stream stirred airily about him as he slogged to the bank. Chuckles spilled from his mouth but were hidden behind the trickle of the waters as he rose to the waters edge.

Like a monkey, the bandit nimbly scrambled to the shore and slipped on his breech. Water squished damply in his boots as he squeezed into them and his tunic hung like a second skin to his damp chest as he slipped the garment over.

Giving himself a once over, he nodded in the faintest measure to himself. To be sure he wasn't dressed in his normal state but he could arrange his attire later, he noted imperatively. For now, he would do.

Wary grimace upon his features the archer looked towards the lush forest fringe, his lips formed into an assenting line. For now, he sighed, he had to deal with Regina and her inquiry.

Adjusting the dampening linen shirt about his body, the archer marched to where she had disappeared. Dim shadow and light that trickled from the awning of leaves above dappled his skin as he entered the familiar woods. Feet barely heard over the leaf strewn ground, he walked a ways before he spotted her leaning against a wide elm tree that spread shade far across the verdant, sleepy land.

Thoughtfulness wrinkled her visage in barely perceptible lines upon her near flawless brow. Her eyes looked as immutably chipped marble but he could tell the difference now when her walls were up because of anger or when they were simply up because aloof coldness was the only safety she knew.

The latter, he prided himself inward, he was quickly learning how to scale.

"You know," another sigh wearily fled Robin's mouth as he approached her, "you could have just asked." The outlaw cast a half amused, half frustrated glance her way as he approached the wide elm. Another sigh crossed his mouth as he leaned against the rough trunk as well. His damp hair framed brown ropes about his face, giving him even a more roguish charm than before.

A trickster's smile slowly spread across Regina's cupid bow lips but she didn't look at him. "What would be the fun in that Backwoodsman?" she asked wryly. A faint tinge of humor fringed her tone. Crossing her arms, her voice softened. "Contrary to popular belief I do care for a bit of amusement now and again."

"Fair enough," the bandit assented with a look of tolerable agreement. Crossing his arms as well he sent her an askance glance that gleamed puerile trouble for the future. "Just remember such things as these require pay back."

A snort of derision huffed haughtily from the witch as she rolled her eyes. "If you can then I most certainly encourage you," she challenged good-naturedly. "But at the moment I have questions that need to be answered," she clarified primly. "Questions about you. Everyone knows my crimes, my story, but yours is one unknown to me. I'm curious backwoodsman," her voice dropped a bit. "How did you come to be here? Who are you? What's your story?"

Though everyone in their other word before had heard some variation of Robin Hood, the legends that somehow managed to leap over to the world of technology were reprehensively bungled from the porous holes that dotted one realm to the next. Things were invariably lost in translation form one world to the next. If any of them were even mostly accurate they all would have been dead by their own stupidity long ago.

"My story," the archer mused to save time and collect the tale. His fingers thoughtfully stroked his chin. "A strange one to be sure, Regina. My life has never been what you call normal." He gave a small shrug as though agreeing with that assessment of himself. "To be sure my life started out that way but I never fit in with my lot."

"My father was a minor noble in an estate not far from Nottingham. Locksley the place was called and before I was Robin Hood I went by Robin of Locksley. The Locksley's, though this may be a boring little tidbit in your eyes, are, were, renowned for their archery skills. My father was inordinately proud of that fact and zealously had me taught by the very best in the skills of bowmanship. He always wanted the best.…"

Steely chestnut eyes straight forward, he stared ponderously into the green thicket as though the windows of memories appeared there in the verdant, tangled openings of the woods. "Along with being a noble, my father was a treasurer for Nottingham. He was rarely ever home and as such when I wasn't practicing my bowmanship, I ended up whiling away my time with the servants or more often than not the people other nobles called the dredges of society that were rife at the time."

A strange light softly escaped his half smiling lips at some familiar memory dashed across his eyes. "I spent my time watching gamblers shoot their loaded dice and women snip a purse with a wave of the hand as they flirted with the men eager to lose their coins in a different manner. I became friends with them all and they taught me their ignoble skills. The trained me how to pickpocket a man's boots straps if I needed to and cheat at cards and to find the gold a man hid in his boots and sewn into hidden pockets of his cloak or trussed in a woman's pinned hair."

"Such strange people they were, a mix of goodness but committed crimes. Mind you they were known as the lowest of society, men and women who swindled and tricked and stole, but they were all good people. They had their own code of honor; they never robbed from any worse then they themselves and if they had something to spare they did. The circumstances of life put them there, not because they were evil. Taxes at the time drove people to do such acts. Some people were reduced to selling their children or turn to crime. I felt for them and swore when I was lord of Locksley I would do something about the terrible impunities done."

With a lugubrious sigh his lips pulled into a sedate, expressive frown. "My father, when he began to suspect my agenda wanted such upturned thinking to be abolished from my head. As a result he sent me away on a trip to Agrabah in hopes that I would forget about the people of my land and find friends in like mind of his. He had wealthy allies in Agrabah that were to take me in for three years." A wily smile slowly appeared upon his lips, his eyes glowing. "Instead I roamed the cities and fell in friendship with a thief named Aladdin. For three years we honed our skills in thievery and mischief learning from one another. He taught me tactile cunning and I taught him the way of the bow." Laughter bubbled from his lips. "What adventures we had!" he sobered again. "But eventually I had to go home. I had gotten word that my father died and so as the new lord of Locksley my solemn duty was to take the reins of the manor and fiefdom."

"When I arrived home, however things were worse than when I left. A queen Regina had taken the kingdom by storm. She put a treacherous snake known as prince John on the throne who mercilessly taxed the land and terrorized the people. When I refused to be part of such despicable acts, he tried to have me killed. When he failed I was branded an outlaw and I went on a mission to alleviate the suffering of people wherever I could. I robbed from the rich, only a tenth, to give to the poor."

Slowly turning to face her, a small smile tipped his mouth. He gave a sanguine shrug. "That's the tale then, how I came to be an outlaw of the woods. Robin of the woods they called me at first then somehow they started with Hood and well, that's all there is to tell."

Of course he had left out other expletives of the tale, but she need not know of them.

"How… _noble_ of you," disgust slipped furtively through her grimacing lips. A sacrificial noble dedicated to the people. The amount of those she came across was staggering. Just once, she wondered duplicitously, would she ever find someone driven out because of their bad deeds? Someone… like her?

Robin lofted a brow, his face faintly endowed with confusion as he turned to her. "You don't sound very pleased."

Regina laconically shook her head. "It's nothing," she sighed and assiduously composed herself again. What else could be expected? "My other question would be how do you know Rumpelstiltskin?"

Yes that that had been the question to begin her gluttonous thirst for answers. Whenever someone knew Rumpelstiltskin nothing good was involved. What had he done to rouse the Dark One's ire so, and what exactly had he tried to steal?

Even at the thought of larceny against the odious Dark One, Regina nearly barked a vile laugh. Did he know how lucky he was to still be breathing if he really had committed such an utterly stupid act? Rumpelstiltskin, she knew extremely well, did not succor or spare those that sought him harm against him or his things.

"_That_," the word tumbled dryly from the archer mouth. Jaw clenched, he uncomfortably shifted a bit as though in an unpleasant memory lashed his brain. Licking his lips he inhaled sharply as the unpleasant remembrance roused back to life. "I robbed him. I broke into his castle to steal a magic wand. I was caught…." He paused there deciding what to say. "His then captive servant Belle rescued me and on my way out I grabbed the wand I had originally come to steal."

A mirthless laugh precociously erupted from Regina's mouth in a disillusioned scoff. Her lips formed into a half smile. Disbelief and a measure of respect glittered in her umber eyes. "Well that was the must utterly foolish thing I have ever heard. Did you have a death wish?"

Once the book worm had freed him why in all the world had he still stolen the wand? Did he really not know when to quit and cut his losses as a life saved?

"The mother of my child, my love, was dying," Robin reveled flatly, his voice stalwartly devoid of emotion. Agony throbbed in his heart with the mention of his dead love. Sharp pain glittered like uncut jewels in his eyes in such a way that the witch almost felt the pang herself.

Shame filled the hollow of Regina's throat. She had foolishly laughed at such a hard topic. Roland's mother. "I apologize for laughing," Regina extorted lowly in regret. She flickered a glance his way. "That was thoughtless of me."

Looking down at the vibrant decomposing leaves and brambles the archer sighed as though he hadn't even heard her. His eyes were years away, taken to some different place and time. "There were complications with the pregnancy. She was getting weaker by the day. I had to do something…. I knew he would come after me but if I could just make it to Sherwood and heal her before he got to me I would have been glad. I succeeded," his voice was barely a whisper. "I healed her…. But." He paused and looked up at her in silent agony. "Well that's how I know Rumpelstiltskin."

Silently, Regina absorbed the delicate information. Casting a surreptitiously gentle glance his way, she studied the outlaw. His body was tense as though some blow would reign down upon him. Trepidation of pain he knew would come swarmed just under the surface of his thoughtful countenance. He knew what query would be next to arise from her mouth.

"Well," Regina sighed imperiously and disentangled her arms. "I suppose that ends my line of questioning," she dictated coolly.

No, she wouldn't pry into that particular aspect of his life. She had taken notice of his hurt and would not burst through that door. Not when the painful query came to Roland's mother.

Turning to look at her fully for the first time, confusion pressed over his pain. His brow dipped faintly as though he had misheard. "You had three questions," nobly informed the bandit just in case she had forgotten. While he did not wish to speak of those times he wouldn't cheat her.

Silent for a moment, the witch pushed off from the tree. A soft strange smile that was almost kind pressed over her lips. "I'll save that questionnaire for another day, backwoodsman."

Awe struck the bandit's heart in a tumultuous mix of emotions as he realized her words. She was, Robin denoted inwardly, she was trying to reserve his pain from breaking free. She was trying to be… thoughtful.

"Thank you." He bowed curtly, meaning every word. Words not spoke between them danced silently through the air. They both knew what she had just done.

Silently they shared an odd moment. Half smiles perched upon their faces, their eyes dancing in a tenuous dance.

What was it about him?

What was it about her?

Abruptly Regina broke the contact. The spell betwixt them sundered in an instant. Her eyes hardened into stone once more, forcing the emotions molded upon her face to dissipate. Why did he look at her as though he knew her heart? A mock scowl flashed upon her features. "Don't think for a second I'll forget," she warned primly, shattering the moment.

Gales of bright laughter birthed from his lips as the tether betwixt them was cut. With a shake of his head he began to trek back to camp. "I wouldn't dream of it, majesty," he called back impudently as he disappeared into the tangled undergrowth.

As he walked away Regina lingered behind as though deciding to follow behind or not. Her head slanted a bit to the right as he watched him make his way back to camp. A small smirk creased her mouth as she enjoyed the sight. The dampness of his pants certainly did form well over his tight rear.

"I'm surprised at you, Regina, I thought checking out a man's behind was beneath you," an accented voice remarked playfully from the azure sky.

Immediately Regina's head jerked to the firmament. Unlike the voice of Rumpelstiltskin this one only provided mild annoyance.

A true scowl burned across her face as she squinted up at a tiny green fairy that floated about the upper lattice of the endless trees.

Lips molded into a displeased frown she spoke the name of her newest guest. "Tinkerbelle…," she deadpanned distastefully. Mustering her haughty, queenly countenance she imperiously clenched her jaw. "First Rumpel now you. Really is it 'visit the exile week' with you people?" her voice lessened to a low murmur of irascibility. "What you do I owe the pleasure?"

"Actually Rumpelstiltskin is why I'm here." Tinkerbelle floated down serenely. An opaque, emerald wave pulsed over her body, shrouding her before she came to normal size. The wings on her back slowly faded leaving her akin to a normal human. Brow perched, she stared incongruously towards the queen. "The last time we spoke to him was before he took you back here."

A hard scoff erupted from Regina's lips as she gazed icily at the fae. "That was three days ago," the witch snorted primly in disinterest.

"Yes." Tinkerbelle nodded. "And we haven't had word from him since." Even though she tried to keep her voice neutral a hint of suspicion alit her exotic voice.

Immutable disbelief expounded Regina's lovely face. Her eyes widened in utter, enraged shock. They didn't really…. "The Charming's actually think I had something to do with him disappearing?" She pointed to her chest, her surprise unparalleled. "What do you people think I'm doing out here, building my own evil empire of squirrels and blue jays? Maybe those vicious deer's are swarming to be enlisted into my service!" Rage liberally inflected her voice. Did they have to ceaselessly malign her every time some worry grasped their pitifully frail hearts! "He's probably out there with his wife trying to start a family and wants to be left alone!"

"The thought had crossed our minds," Tinkerbelle assured the deposed monarch as she tired to stymie her former friend's anger. "When I went to the castle nobody was there. Perhaps they did leave somewhere to be left alone." She shrugged. "His spinner's wheel was still there so I guess they must be returning."

Consternation beetled Regina's face at her words. That couldn't be... "His wheel?" That, she knew implicitly well, was an ineffable problem. "You might have a situation then," she acknowledge, the rage spilling out of her with the chilling news.

"What do you mean?" Tinkerbelle arched a brow.

"Rumpelstiltskin never, ever leaves his wheel if he'll be gone away for a while." Regina threw her arms up in a mood of abysmal frustration. "I remember seeing him teleport that rickety thing to different rooms in his castle so it would be nearby when we studied. If he's left his wheel. Then you may indeed have a problem."

Tinkerbelle shrugged her slender shoulders. "Maybe that is something Belle has mended in him. True Love has a way of changing people."

True Love, the word nearly made her gag. A look of disgust curtained over her face, something the fae did not miss.

"Oh don't look like the words are poison," the fairy huffed faintly. Her eyes gently studied the exile. "Yours is still out there somewhere, remember?"

"I prefer not to," Regina sighed annoyance. Perching her head up briskly, the deposed monarch glared with icy ferocity at the fairy. "The only love I need is Henry." Henry was all. He had to be.

The green fairy shook her head. "That's not true Regina. We all need that other love. The love that makes us complete; the other half to make us whole."

"Well I don't," irascibly snapped the exile, her lips contorted into a sharp frown. "That moment has passed. I don't plan on finding that man, nor would I want to."

A resigned sigh fled the fairies lips. Calling magic to her, the green wave pulsed over her again and she became the size of a hornet once more. Her wings fluttered like pistons as she hovered in the air up to Regina's face. Pity shimmered in her sea green eyes at the queen's stubbornness. "Suit yourself Regina. But just remember he is out there. Your True Love."

"I appreciate your sentiment but that ship has sailed, Tink," Regina explained venomously. "Now go before one magical creature actually ends up missing," she threatened darkly.

Taking more than the hint, the fairy winged away from her fruitless interrogation. Her diaphanous wings glittered against the suns rays as she zipped back to the Charming's.

At once Regina was alone again without a friend or foe.

A wave of indecorous disgust washed over her at the last words of the fairy. Who did she think she was?

True Love, Regina scoffed at the very notion as she began to follow Robin Hood's cold trail back to camp. True Love, for her? What a ridiculous notion! Besides, what were the chances of that happening in the midst of the southern woods!

**~8~8~**

_A/N: This may just be my paranoia, but did anyone else notice the old couple from the movie "Up" in the diner in last nights episode?_


	11. Surprises All Around

_A/N: I rewrote this a handful of times. It was so hard and I don't know why. I'm too sure about it. Hope it's not terrible. :X_

**~8`8~**

A chilled breeze nipped teasingly through the air in the midst of the Southern Woods. Fall's breath playfully slipped through the stalwart, sleepy trees to rustle down the dying leaves in a flurry of vibrant hues. Gold and topaz and crimson entrenched the intricately entangled trees with vibrant tints of their dead plumage. The wind stirred the tatters of their majestic gowns along the forest floor in colorful vortexes that leaped and died along the lichen frilled roots.

Far and wide the wilds rolled out like a quilt stitched by the deities themselves. Land undulated from gullies to knolls all along the forest in a portrait of finery. The hand of autumn reigned fully over the land with no trace of summers rule left. Crisp azure painted the wide sky and little rafts of thin alabaster clouds floated aimlessly through the cobalt heavens.

The day was glorious and doubly so for the men of Robin Hoods Camp. For the day was Roland's 6th birthday.

"Almost… almost," Robin muttered in complete concentration to himself as he bent the seasoned ash wood almost double in his strong grip.

Half kneeled over, he touted all his energies to the task before him. His mouth pulled to the right as he focused all his will power upon the project at hand. One foot propped up on an old maple stump, he bent to his task with a vigor. Eyes stapled upon his loving chore all else seemed to die away.

Right hand bending the wood on one end, the other dug into the stump he used for leverage, he pulled up a knotted cord with his left over the tip to fit into two carved slits along the side. The loop at the end of the string barely peeked over the wood. Harder and hard he bent and tugged until finally the loop rested over the wood and fit into the slots.

The smallest bows were the hardest to sting of course.

A satisfied sigh of victory shot past the outlaw's firm lips at his immutable success. Eyes alit in triumph he raised the bow and examined his workmanship. Bright smile stealing across his face he reveled in his accomplishment. The bow was the finest he had ever crafted. Simple and small the armament was made like the kind adults gave children to shoot away crows and pests in the verdant fields in summer.

Made of seasoned ash wood, he had been saving, the bow was a light brown color of old leaves. The string was waxed a whitish hue from animal tallow and pliable to the touch of a novice. On the stump he had helped give him some stability was a doe hide quiver bristling with little arrows. Duck feathers of bright white fletched the ends of the projectiles to help with accuracy. The tips were up sharpened almost to a stake like point but without steel or stone to help alleviate the danger of them.

For Robin the gift was a tradition his father had passed on to him and now he passed on to his son. Soon Roland would learn the ancient craft of archery.

Abruptly a twig snapped from behind jolting him out of his inward satisfaction and fatherly pride. Like a caught rabbit the archer whirled about to face the newcomer, the bow placed against his back. Tiny bow behind him he prepared to exact some excuse to his son.

"What are you doing?" Regina asked suspiciously as she appeared through the clandestine pine coppice the outlaw had taken as his temporary workplace. Her lips pursed into a shrewd partial pucker of curiosity as she stopped at the edge of the pine grove he inhabited.

A relaxed sigh fled from his lips at the sight of her. "Regina," he uttered her name in relief, his shoulders sinking. "I thought you were Roland."

"No I think he could have snuck upon you with a little more subtly than I," the witched remarked languidly. Her eyes scanned the glade furtively with a dubious glance that told she knew something lay amiss in the shade. "I made enough noise to scare away half the birds in the area. How come you didn't hear me until the last minute?"

Surely her subtly skills hadn't evolved so swiftly even with her practice, she noted inwardly. She was not so foolish to think she could catch up with his forest expertise any time soon. No, she contemplated perceptively, he had been drowned in something that took his mind from all his surroundings.

Thin lines of guilt momentarily shrouded his normally eased visage. In that moment he certainly did appear the scoundrel up to no good. Looking away he heaved his shoulders in a shrug. "I was too focused on the task at hand was all," he dogged tactfully in hopes she would not pry so much.

"What had you so focused out here that you couldn't hear me a mile away?" she jested faintly, her lips twitching into a ghost of a grin.

Hands fiddling with the bow behind his back he judged inwardly if he should come clean or not. The lads knew and approved his plans but they were all of like mind, forest mind, when things all came down at the basest sense. Still, he judged precariously on the other hand, she wouldn't remand to much of a fuss.

Light slivers of laughter splintered from his lips in his last minute decision to come clean. "I uh, was making some final tweaks on a weapon. It's for Roland." Slowly the bandit revealed the small bow from behind his back. "Today's his birthday," he informed her astutely.

"Birthday," Regina echoed in light mild surprise, taken off guard by the announcement.

In retrospect that did explain a lot. All the men had been secretive and more elusive than usual. They all looked as though they had a plot that fluttered like a caged bird in their heads. She should have suspected something of that nature, but who knew what crazy people who lived in the woods had in mind.

Nodding succinctly, the archer looked down and weighed the small weapon in his grip. His mouth carved into a line of pride torn with a hint of sadness. "His sixth. An important one for the Locksley's."

Every man in his family had learned the bow when they were six. Though that was normally two years younger than most boys the legend said at that age they became almost in tune with their weapons and he could believe that.

"And you're giving him weapons?" Regina asked incredulously and lofted a curious brow. A hint of astonishment hemmed her voice but she bit the viperous fangs back. They were in the woods not some quaint suburb in Maine.

The archer nodded laconically. "Certainly." He turned and gathered the full quiver from the stump. Fitting the newly strung bow and bristling quiver all in one hand he turned about to face the witch again. He gestured imploringly with the bundle. "The boy's got to learn sometime," he reasoned gently.

"But at six?" Regina scoffed in disbelief and rolled her eyes. Her hand fluttered through the air as though she was literally trying to grasp his way of seeing things. "At six I got Henry Lego's and a G. I Joe," she argued tenaciously to his quiet assurance.

Confusion momentously wrinkled Robin's brow at the foreign words. Shaking his head to rid himself of the strange things she spoke of he tucked the present under an arm. "Through the course of time for the Locksley's we have set to learning the ways of the bow at six. These aren't really dangerous for the lad. He'll learn without being in mortal peril."

Though she really had no reason to argue, part of the archer worried she would convince him otherwise. Regina certainly did have a way of trying to make people see things her way. At least for him. He could see her reasoning if anything else was lost in translation. In a way he understood what seem to lurk at the core of what she did.

"Father knows best I supposed." The deposed queen smiled icily indulgent at the bandit. "Far be it from me to argue," Regina snorted imperiously. Casting her umber gaze over him coolly she searched him as though he hid some key. "I assume if you're giving him such a gift you're having some sort of a celebration for him," she concluded tentatively.

The outlaw nodded tersely. "Of course. Tonight when the sun sets. That's how we usually did things back home." He perched a brow her way. "Why?"

Did she plan to present her own gift to Roland?

Fluttering a hand flippantly through the air, the witch hid her emotions behind her cold, aloof wall. "I just wanted to know how long I should stay away," she replied carelessly with feigned, curt indifference.

Not in a thousand years would she want to ruin the boy's special day. She wasn't part of their band, she knew implacably well. She might live in the bandit camp but she was not one of them. There were only two that tolerated her and one was a six year old boy and the other was a crazy backwoodsman.

Understanding illuminated his mind like a candle in a damp cave. "That won't be necessary Regina," Robin returned gently to disabuse her of her unwanted-ness. His lips creased into a soft, faint smile. "Roland is quite fond of you. He'd be utterly disappointed if you weren't there."

"He's not the one I'm worried about," she remarked dryly and crossed her arms. No matter if she lived there she was still an outcast. She was the evil queen they hated in their midst only there because their leader took pity on her. If she lost Robin's patronage they would have elatedly run her out of the entire forest.

A defeated look shaded upon Robin's face. Yes. _That_. "Ah the lads. Don't worry about them. They'll be on their best behavior for Roland's sake." Perching his head back up he cocked a brow. "So will you come or will I have to make an excuse for your absence?"

"As long as you think he won't mind, I wouldn't miss his birthday for the world," Regina assured quietly.

A roguish smile tilted Robin Hood's lips. "I knew you wouldn't Regina." He winked cheekily.

"And why is that," Regina scoffed in a faint, challenging frown.

"Because," he replied languidly, daring a wide grin. "You wouldn't have the heart to ruin his surprise party."

~8~8~

"One, two, three, strike!" King James ordered out firmly. His voice thundered commandingly through the barren silver courtyard, demanding implacable obedience as he swung his blade expertly through the air.

Both hands gripped upon the handle, the king slashed the blade downward in a vertical motion. Halfway down he reverted his right handed grip upon the blade and slashed horizontally though the air where a mans neck would be.

The silvery metal hissed dangerously through the crisp fall afternoon. Flecks of golden sun glinted off the polished steel and flickered slants of blinding light in every direction with each motion.

In front him, two other swords sang in tandem through the air. Emma and Henry both stood before him, displaying the new maneuvers he showed him.

Emma's strokes were more refined, almost instinct, James noted expertly, while Henry's needed a bit of work on the exact moment of when to turn the trick. Still, neither of them were bad with a blade.

Letting the strike go full the full motion, he dipped his sword point dip to the stones. Breath bellowed sparingly out of his lungs as the training came to an end. A smile tiredly lifted upon his face as he faintly nodded to them. "Good, good." Placing the tip of his sword down on the stones he held both his hands over the golden pommel. "You both could use a bit more work but other than that I think you both have the maneuver pinned pretty well."

"You really think so, grandpa?" Henry queried with suppressed excitement barely hidden beneath his sweaty features. His eyes danced with unspent energy only a growing youth could possess.

A smile wider bloomed upon James face and he gave a little heart warming laugh. "Of course I do, Henry." Instinctively, as though drawn by another presence he turned his face to the door. Blissfully elegant, Snow watched the last of the display and he nudged his head in her direction. "But your grandmother thinks I spend a little too much time with this knight business. I think you better go find your tutors for a bit of study time."

Just because he was a prince did not mean he couldn't skip lessons, of course.

"Alright," the boy sheathed his blade and patted the pommel. Breathing hard, he jogged over to where Snow lingered in the door way.

Wrapping his arms about her in a quick hug the lad raced off with the endless energy of youth to another task asked of the princling.

Looking back once as Henry left, a smile half of awe lilted Snow's lips. Striding across the courtyard to them she look sluiced in surprised. Shock dusted her face in utter disbelief. Had that been the same Henry? "I can barely believe it. He's looking so much better now," she remarked to them both.

"Looks like a little meeting with Regina did the kid good," Emma deadpanned somewhat disapprovingly, her eyes pinioned to the door. Troubled thoughts gleamed like jewels in her eyes but she kept them close to her heart alone.

The change, as Snow had pointed out, had indeed been amazing. Slowly as the months had progress, Henry had gradually sunk into some quiet, inward turmoil that had lasted for days at a time. No one could guess what ailed him. A sanguine pining for their old world? The overwhelming sense of duty? Surprisingly none of those had been the case. Only after he had come back from seeing Regina had they found the cure to what ailed him. He had missed his mother.

"Understandable," James interposed reasonably. "She did raise him for ten years."

"Speaking of Regina," Snow piped up again, her timbre more serious, "Tink came back," a hint of worry trailed her voice. Trepidation donned her face, her lips sinking into a wary frown as she gazed at them both in trepidatious concern. "She says Regina isn't responsible for Rumpel's disappearance."

Relief smoothed like worn stone upon Emma's face. At least one thing seemed to be going right. "Well at least that's some good news."

Silence resounded from her parents at her brisk observation. Dubious thoughts flashed before their faces as they looked from one to the other in silent deliberation betwixt themselves.

Uncertain, indecision warily flickered in the princesses gaze as she stared at one parent to the next. "Isn't it?"

Wasn't that what they were hoping? That Regina hadn't gotten her grubby hands into any mischief?

"I'm not so sure that it is," Snow remarked hesitatingly torn. Her gaze drifted from her husband to daughter as she tried to dredge up her explanation. "I mean we know Regina; how she acts, her methods, her weaknesses. Maybe I speak for myself but I'd rather have Regina as the wolf at the door than someone new."

James sighed in inexplicably, tired frustration. He bounced a hand off the side of his head as though trying to pluck out a thought. "But we don't even know if this is something new, if this is anything," he reasoned lowly. "What if we're just paranoid for nothing?"

So far they had no reason to believe the darkness in the east was anything major. No reports had come in of lives lost or any disaster. The cloud just seemed to linger there. Nothing was going on as they knew of. If a curse had been enacted then obviously the magic had failed.

"That's right," Emma agreed tenuously with a glance to her father.

Snow blinked at her in shock. "Are you saying we should let our guard down after the man, the _Dark One_, we sent to investigate has gone missing?" she queried in shocked credulity.

"No… no not at all," the princess quickly assured and shook her head at the displeasing thought. Placing her blade on her right leather pauldron, she sighed at them both. "I mean let's look at this reasonably. It's been months now with nothing happening, we've pestered Rumpelstiltskin like crazy for the cause with nothing to show, and Regina is off the table." She shrugged at a loss. "What's to say he really did just get fed up with us, like David said, being paranoid and left to some private retreat with Belle?" Her lips formed into a faint guilty grimace. "After all the time we've called on him. If I was a recovering evil Dark One I would have started ignoring us to," she remarked half shamefacedly.

"Tink said Regina was worried about his spinner's wheel, something about him not taking the thing with him…." Snow crossed her arms, her face endowed with lines of concern.

Raking a hand through his hair James sighed. "It's a toss up when it comes to Rumpelstiltskin. You don't know what he's going to do. Spinners wheel or not."

"So what do we do…?" Snow looked from one to the other in the impromptu meeting.

Folding her arms, Emma nodded as though arguing and assenting to some inward decision. "Nothing. We stay alert, prepared and keep our eyes to the east." Face conformed in an indelible frown she sighed. "That way we'll have no surprises."

~8~8~

Blue black crepuscular light glowed just at the tips of the color trees as Roland's celebration got underway. A slew of paltry stars already twinkled in the vast heavens, not yet ready to glisten over the velvet bed of night.

Paper lanterns of blue and gold dangled cheerily from strings attached from tree to tree around the bandit camp. The camp from above looked as though a giant spider had netted a web above them with geodes of azure and honey light spotted about the canopy.

Flames danced merrily in a large bonfire set in Roland's honor. A large slab of venison roasted temptingly over the flames as the camp celebrated the boys sixth birthday.

And what a birthday it was. How his face had lit up when his father walked him into camp. How he had smiled and laughed as they roared their well wishes. Already he looked like the luckiest boy in all the realms and the they hadn't even gotten to the best parts yet.

Festivity reigned prime joviality thought the air like an infections disease. Laughter boisterously rebounded about the glade. Peals of mirth echoed through the land like a giant's feast was underway.

Stories of old slipped from smiling mouths like wine. Those who were instrumentally inclined trilled upon wooden flutes and banged upon drums in a steady beat of enjoyment. The pulse of the part was a livewire and erratic thing that jolted and jumped wildly.

They seemed like savages celebrating the day of a chief's boy. And in a way, Regina noted, they were.

Watching them from the shadows all alone that was exactly how Regina accorded them. A faint smile donned her lips as her eyes roved about the merry men. Tonight they were certainly doing their name justice. They were a savage bunch, leaping and laughing and drinking and making toasts to the birthday boy.

Before the fire, little Roland sat the proudest of all little boys. Seated on a large log, he kicked his feet happily as he played and talked with those who wished him countless many years to come. A wide smile went from ear to ear in boyish charm. His brown, nearly hazel eyes glowed in the crepuscular light and the fire all mingled into one that set his gaze aflame. He looked akin to a joyous little king who couldn't help but smile.

For the birthday boy all of them had crafted their own little presents for the lad. They all held their gifts close by and wrapped in cloaks, itching to present their presents to the child. Little John had made him a small doe hide sheath what he could use for the dagger Allan had gotten for him and hosts of other things they had pitched in to give him.

Guilt stabbed a lance into Regina at the thought of the presents. Her curled hands involuntarily flexed as though she sought something that could not come to her grasp. She had nothing to give him, she knew shamefully.

Stalwartly the witch braced herself and coldly shook the sadness off. A small grin remained stapled upon her face as she shoved the though away. There was nothing to be done about that now.

As the last sharp notes to a bucolic sound chirped out across the growing night, Robin raised his hands up. "Alight my friends," he laughed heartily. "I think it's time for Roland's cake."

A mighty cheer like the start of a battle rankled through the forest in the rough men's approval. Shouts and laughter arose into the blackish blue sky as they gathered around. Even Regina crept a bit closer, staying on the edge of the celebration but close enough to not provoke notice.

"Aye you're right, Robin!" Tuck cried out good naturedly as he slipped through the crowd. "And here it is."

Laying the cake down before the boy, the corpulent Tuck slipped his thumbs beneath his cord belt and smiled proudly with himself. The cake was simple but looked scrumptious in a sweetly rural type of way.

Golden, the cake was studded with blackberries that had been encrusted with sugar.

How they managed Regina thought she would never know but she found that she couldn't bring herself to care. A soft smile tipped her lips in spite of her confusion and utter curiosity. Their dedication to him was astounding. They could do so much just to see him smile

Placing a hand upon Roland's back, the archer leaned forward to his growing son. "Alright Roland, close your eyes and make a wish."

Willfully complying the lad did as his father bid. Closing his eyes tight, his mouth a thin, pinched line of concentration, the little lad looked as though he were performing some inward fight in his mind. After a moment he opened his eyes again and looked around at all their smiling faces.

"Well what'd you wish for lad?" Little John asked excitedly like a little child himself.

Others joined in eager to know his wish. A blade, a new toy, the bow?

"I already got it," Roland announced proudly with a childish grin. Feet still kicking the log, he looked at them all with the utmost joy.

Already? Confusion squeezed Robin's stout heart. Had he known about the bow and arrows? Misunderstanding wrinkled his visage as he peered askance at his boy. "What do you mean by that, Roland? You haven't even seen anything yet."

"I know but I just wished for one big thing paw paw." His large brown eyes so expressive like his fathers found Regina. "I wished for a mother," he revealed happily. "And Miss Regina is still here so my wish came true!"


	12. Destiny

"I knew this would happen, Robin," Little John extolled furiously, his voice a dark growl that rumbled through the cave of his scowl deformed mouth. His eyes seemed akin to black pits hooded over a sloped, heavy brow as he glared angrily at the archer. "I told you, I said the first day she was here, Robin you're going to regret this!" Hand balled into a fist he waved the meaty appendage about like a club in his barely suppressed rage before their clever leader. "And look what's happened. Did you hear what he said? He thinks that witch is here as some kind of _mother_!"

In less than two months she had gone from outsider to mother to the boy! That was the price of Robin's "charity" a situation in which placed his son's emotions in truant peril.

Leaning against a bole ridden oak, arms crossed the outlaw faced his invariably displeased men. Face immutably placid and devoid of emotion the archer gave a brisk nod to the big man. "I recall John," he replied quietly and scratched the right edge of his lip with his thumb. His eyes looked to the freshly leaf strewn ground, now trampled and dirtied, with ponderous intent. What else could he say but that? He couldn't deny the words, only own up to their prophesy come to life.

The old words John had portended, had too swum through his mind after Roland's happy revelation. He had not put voice to the thought though in fear of upsetting his son.

Roland, quite inexplicably continued on with his celebration, oblivious to the elephant he had just conjured in the midst of the camp with his heartfelt wish. He had innocently asked could he cut the cake and like a rickety, ancient cart the celebration had continued on with the lad none the wiser to what he had done.

Oh but that could not be said for anyone else in the camp. Every eye had glared upon Robin for the rest of the night. When they did not address Roland their emotion strewn faces peered at him as though he had grown three horns on the crown of his head and a fox tail!

After the gifts had been dispensed, treats eaten, and Roland had been put to bed, the gathering had been taken well out of earshot of the lad. Regina had disappeared as soon as the celebration was at an end, which, to all of them save Robin was more than fine.

" 'You recall'," Allan snorted mockingly in a savage jeer. "That's all you have to say? Oh that's all well and fine then," the swordsman shot venomously through the darkness, his voice a firm display of his piqued emotions. "We'll just say you remember and forget the entire thing then?"

The outlaw held a once crossed arm out to the gathering. "What do you want me to say? I can't stop Roland from thinking what he thinks? If you want to harangue me be my guest but that will not solve anything!"

Did they simply except him to go back in time and repair what they supposedly ascertained was wrong?

"We're not here to talk about the past, Robin," Tuck reasonably explained his voice sagacious. "We're here to deliberate upon the future and what this all means."

Did the ex-witch have a place of power now in their camp? Was she a tick, never to be plucked out of their hide? Had she really fallen into a replacement for saintly Maid Miriam in Roland's eyes?

"Not without me you're not," Regina decreed coolly as she appeared at the fringe of their enclave. A grim frown adorned her face as though carved there by a chisel. Her skin was a ghastly, regal pale in the moonlight that only more so expressed her chilled displeasure.

Though she wasn't one of them, she couldn't be left out of such a discussion. Not when she had so much to say.

"You weren't invited here." John's bulk obstinately blockaded her path. A bear could not have looked so intimidating as he did glaring murderously upon her form. She had been trouble since she had stepped foot in camp!

A sneer lofted upon her lips as she eyed the hulk with imminent disdain. "Yet here I am, brute." Sweeping past the man as though he were an irksome gnat, she entered the meeting brazenly. Her eyes scanned them all, her orbs cold and testy. "If you're going to talk about me anyway I'd like to be here to see what you have to say."

"You've no right!" Allan exposed heatedly. Furiously, he slammed a fist in utter frustration through the air and stomped challengingly to the witch. "You're not one of us! You're a stray, a dangerous stray."

"Enough!" Robin shouted, silencing the dissent. Throwing his hands out between them he stood in the middle to keep them apart. Eyes cold as shards of brown glass, he glared at them all sternly. "We'll have none of that here. She has a right enough as any of us."

Face hard the fallen monarch stepped away from the enraged Allan. Circling the commune like a dangerous, cornered tiger, she glared at them all. "Don't worry I won't be here long. I've come with a solution," she explained, her voice dangerously soft.

"To the problem you started," grumbled John bitterly, his eyes narrowed precociously.

The ex-queen sneered disgustedly at the interruption but continued. "Nevertheless I come to give my aid. I understand Roland's words came as a surprise to us all. I did not meant to put such thoughts into his head. Given the circumstances I will extricate myself from this situation. After three days I will…," she paused uncertainly, "Break the news to Roland in a way that will let him down easily, then I'll be out of your hair."

That was the best recourse in her estimation, she guessed after she ran the problem through. To leave before he got any more attached would be best. How he had come to see her as some mother figure was a mystery to her, but that didn't mean she could let such things proliferate. No, better to nip that awkward assumption of a matron quickly before Roland truly got attached.

Surprise donned the not so merry men's faces at her frontal suggestion. Head swung from side to side as they deliberated in quiet voices. A low murmur rose from the group but their words were indiscernible. Was getting rid of her that simple?

"Truly?" Little John asked as though she was playing some trick. Was she really volunteering to depart?

Falling back to his previous position, Robin pinioned his gaze upon her as well. Fine lines faintly traced his brow in dour suspicion. "Are you certain Regina?" he queried carefully.

"It's the best way without hurting him in the future." She crossed her arms to fend off the chill and shrugged her shoulders. Cool gaze steely the former queen observed their reactions with a noble grace of one who cared if they were yea or nay.

Slowly nodding Little John frowned grimly. "Aye, at last we agree." He turned to Robin, his eyes hard chips of obsidian. "Unless a certain someone thinks otherwise," impertinently growled the hulk

Battle raged angrily through Robin's chest at the declaration but he hid the conflict with a veil of neutrality. Was hurting his son, for a moment in order to save him from a more bitter departing… was letting her leave the best way? Did he have a choice? Querulous notions rumbled like dark storm clouds into the archer's chest. How he wished to argue and rail and cajole as was his nature, but he forsook the feelings. With a stoic will, he shoved the emotions away deep into the depths of his heart.

"Three days you say?" Robin sighed emotionlessly, his eyes slowly searching Regina's for something, anything.

Regina nodded hollowly. Face a stone wall, she tilted her chin up faintly. "That's all I ask."

In three days perhaps she could scrounge up a plan or even a prayer. In three days maybe the pain of the moment wouldn't cut so deeply. In three days maybe she would forget of how she had seen the camp… as a small home.

"I'll see that you have a fair pack of supplies when the time comes," the bandit assured her softly. Whiskey depths falling back to the dark ground, his shoulders slumped dejectedly.

Bitter confusion milled aimlessly in his mind. Thoughts lashed his brain to tatters. Why did those words hurt so much to fall from his lips? Why had he not said….

Stoically shielding herself, the witch snorted icily. "If that's all?" Her intrinsically eyes scanned the meeting again.

"Finally," muttered Allan. Petulantly the merry man kicked a bunch of leaves and shot her a hate filled glance. At last she would be gone.

"Good." Without another word, Regina swiftly turned from them. Graciously noble, the ex-queen slipped away again through the trees leaving the meeting of dissenters behind in the blackness.

The darkness of the tangled wood engulfed the witch in a sea of velveteen black as she disjoined herself from the hate. Soft blue moon beams danced through the half naked trees to mottle the night and the forest floor in spectral azure.

A solitary tear slipped down Regina's hard visage as she lost herself in the odious forest. The bowers of half attired limbs gratefully cloaked her, hiding her moment of pained weakness from any eyes that spied upon her.

This was to be her erroneous fate, she reasoned justly, hating the slip of weakness. She needed not be so weak, she scolded herself harshly as the tear fell. This was her lot. Only a life of loneliness lay before her and everything in her life made certain of that.

The sooner she learned to accept that without feeling rejected, the better.

~8~8~

Two days down. Robin frowned morosely at the lugubrious thought as he watched the woman soon to leave stride confidently through the camp.

Her step was almost as though ice formed under her feet. She moved with a rigidity that would have made a golem envious. What ease she had allotted in the camp was all but dissipated. Besides for a bit of expertise now in the dealing of the woods she seemed the same woman who had entered the camp that no so long ago. The same woman who was soon to leave.

Chestnut eyes following her, a disparaged grimace lined his thinned lips. His bow calloused fingers tapped an erratic tattoo upon his brandished bow as he lost himself in thought.

Two days, the words repeated in an endless loop through his mind. Two days had passed before her departure.

Two days and they felt like one thousand years to him. Even watching her he felt time going on in an incredible pace and being as slow as a snail the next. An eternal pang resonated like a dagger point in his heart with the thought but he could not discern the origin.

One more day and she was gone forever. How he hated thinking of such a thing!

Unlike his emotions, how little Roland would react was anyone's guess. At night, gladder than they had ever been, the men wagered the lad would be upset, but like anything that left in his life he would learn to deal with her absence and soon forget. At least they hoped Roland did. But then, Robin concluded grimly, Regina was not a woman one soon forgot.

A strong wave of insurmountable indecision rocked the archer at the thought of ever forgetting Regina. Could he really let her leave? Would he brook any protest? Did he wish to?

Shaking his head the thief pushed off from the tree. Being still for too long was not a trait he could tout proudly. Simply lingering uncertainly like a ghost who did not know to move on made him wish to tear his hair out and scream. He had to do something, anything.

"A moment, Regina!" Robin vapidly padded towards her as she looked down at the small smoldering fire in the middle of camp.

Sadness carved his face in a sanguine half smile as he came to a stop before her. Placing his bow in front on him, her placed both hands on the tip and leaned forward. Studiously, he forced his air to be light and careless. He couldn't let her guess what he felt. Doubly so when he didn't even know himself.

A sigh of indelible agitation sprang from her full, frowning lips. Jerking her head up to him, the former witch snarled. "What is it, Backwoodsman?" she snapped almost in challenge.

Could he not see she just wished to be alone? Already she had too much to think upon without his voice wedging in and destroying the walls she was erecting to hide her pain. Really he was incorrigible! His avarice for her attention nearly made her wish to slap him.

"Before you leave I have one last lesson to teach you," the thief explained idly in carefree friendship.

She couldn't know, he whispered to himself, she couldn't know.

A snort of derision resounded mirthlessly from the witch. Crossing her arms she glared upon him incredulously. "What? A different way to pick berries? To set a snare? To hide in a bush?"

"No." A half genuine smile perked upon his lips. Dexterously the bandit plucked up his bow from the cane like position. Expertly catching the weapon, he held the armament out horizontally. An indolent smirk replaced his smile in a mischievous fancy. "Archery."

The last thing he had not even begun to teach her was the way of the bow. She could forage and snare and even gather fish, but archery was what kept a body and soul together in the forest when the pickings were not plentiful.

"Archery?" Regina echoed incredulously, her voice flat to hide her surprise. Momentarily torn between curiosity and amusement she perched an inquisitive brow. "You think you can teach me archery in one day?"

A soft, roguish smile rose upon his lips. His chocolate orbs looked at her with a gentle coaxing as he shrugged his shoulders. "More finely put, hunting with the use of a bow, but yes, archery. It's not that hard to learn to be honest."

"That coming from the infamous archer himself," snorted Regina coolly. A faint half smile stole upon her full mouth.

Arm still extended with the bow, he bit back a laugh. "You really do have problems with a simple yes or no. Either would suffice."

Eyes narrowed faintly, the witch looked him over ponderously, her mind setting up the possibilities of his offer. Why would he bring archery up out of the blue? Was his offer some sort of crazy plot? Her hard russet eyes surveyed him in imperial analysis to uncover his true intention. What was his game now? Was he trying to take her mind off leaving? Did it matter?

"Alright," she assented softly, her voice still suspicious, and plucked the bow from him. Admiring the beautifully simple crafted weapon of light yew wood in her hands she perched her head up at him. "Show me."

~8~8~

Insipid cream colored clouds slogged detestably across the evening sky far above the southern woods. The astringent sun was shrouded in light gray muslin cloud that buffered the gleam of the golden rays to despondent ash.

Total glumness painted the world with soft colors that prophesied a dark and cold winter to come.

"So this is hunting," Regina remarked unimpressed as they stalked through the forest. Mild annoyance carved her lovely visage as they tromped nearly noiselessly through the woods.

Two hours had passed from the time they had left the camp. The cloudy day did little to boost their hearts as they strode through the dark woods. If the thought of hunting was to take their minds away from her departure then never had an idea failed so miserably.

A few animals had been spotted in their time but either they were too small or too fast for the archer to teach the outcast anything. Besides for a quick tutorial on bowman ship, he had nothing in which to test her. Currently they were doggedly following the careless trail of a deer but so far all they had caught was nibbled leaves and broken twigs.

Soft laughter bubbled from the bandit's lips as he shoved a thick set of nearly barren branches out his way and stepped over a tangle of roots. "Patience could be another word for it." He shrugged faintly. "One has to be as patient as the animal themselves. They have to know there tricks. One has to understand them and think like them in order to draw them out of where they are most comfortable."

"Patience," the ex-queen remarked wryly, her lips barely parted, as her umber eyes scanned the tangle, "Is not one of my virtues."

She couldn't wait for things to fall into her lap. She was the go out, bring whatever she needed back, type, or make do. Patience afforded her nothing. Her pains never alleviated, her heart never mended. Patience was a thing not needed for her.

"It'll need to be when you're out here alone," the thief explained carefully. He shot her an askance glance to the left as they walked. "Otherwise you risk playing your hand to soon and your supper running away."

A hint of laughter huffed from her shrewd lips, her lush mouth woven into an irrepressible smirk. "I think I'll stick to snaring then. I've always been better at laying traps for my prey anyway."

Queer silence reigned commandingly betwixt the two as it so often did when they were alone. The sound of sluggish wind through the partially naked trees whispered as the only noise in their midst's as each was lost in their private thoughts, digesting the information of the other.

"May I ask you a personal question, Regina?" Robin finally blurted finally unable to keep the burning question in.

Though she may have not have been aware, when matters came to people and emotion, patience was not a virtue of his either. That, and that alone had been the driving force to suggest he teach her archery.

Getting away with her hadn't been the solution he had been looking for; to be close and repress what he felt. Instead those things that bubbled in the cauldron of his heart were near overflowing now alone with her. They sputtered at his throat and clambered to dive past his lips.

The witch flickered a sidelong glance in his direction. "You mean the one you've been itching to ask me since two days ago?" she queried perceptively.

Yes, she knew exactly what lay simmering in his broad chest. A blind fool could have noticed the sparks upon his tongue that he kept back. If he thought his contemplations would be shrouded from her then he was sorely mistaken. By magic itself, she was a master of covert emotion and the art of suppressing what was inside!

"Indeed." The bandit did not even try to deny or dissuade her perceptive claim. "It's about Roland," he began uncertainly, his moth a thin pencil line of consternation, "You could have left me with the task of breaking the news to him." He turned to look at her as they threaded their way through the impenetrable woods. "Why do you wish to tell him you're leaving?"

Surely to leave him with such a burden would have been simpler. She wouldn't have to see the pain on Roland's face or even see him if she chose to place the task on his lap.

Plaintive contemplation etched the witch's lovely visage at his irrevocable question. Pondering danced like sparked behind her copper eyes. With a sad sigh she dipped her head an inch and finally answered. "I'll be gone in a day. You have many more years to raise your son. I won't have a hand in him being upset with you. I am the one he should be upset with. You're his father, you don't deserve that. If he is to be disappointed then let him think ill of me and not you."

"Sacrifice?" The bandit perched a brow as he stepped over a moss cushioned log.

Her words were unquestioningly, indisputably noble. To take the pain of that as well as departure was a thing that rocked him. She was willing to have his son sad with her rather than with his father. Why would she do such for an "ignorant backwoodsman" she insulted on a near day to day basis? Why did his heart bleed with her chivalrous words?

Her shoulders heaved in a faint shrug. "That's the least I can do after you…." Her mouth pulled in impertinent displeasure to the left as she struggled valiantly for the words. "Took me in," she sighed primly in begrudging admittance. "Though many are not wont to believe me, let no one say I was never grateful for anything. You eased a bit of my life and now… it's only right I do the same."

How could she leave with Roland angry and tearful at his father. A child's anger hurt like a searing knife in a parent's chest, she knew unequivocally. The last thing he need was that anger and pain directed at himself.

"Maybe you don't have to do that at all." Robin suggested suddenly, the words flying half of their own accord from his lips.

Large icebergs formed in the bandit's gut even as the words fled his lips. Had he just…. Stoically he pushed the thoughts of self doubt far from his mind. The words had been uttered. No going back now.

Awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, he feigned calm. "Maybe everything will smooth itself out if we're just… patient."

"What?" Regain contested attitudinally, her voice hemmed with surprise. Coming to a halt she started at the archer as though he were mad. "He's got it into his head I'm some sort of surrogate! How do you smooth that out? That's not a thing that goes away, backwoodsman, that's a thing that grows and evolves."

Drawing to a halt beside her, the archer turned fully to the witch. His whiskey orbs gleamed in a thin ray of sun that sliced through the clouds. His normally indefatigable heart trembled inwardly and threatened to fall into his iced over stomach. The moment was at a head. A move had to be made before the moment passed him by. Now or never.

"Is that so bad?" he asked suddenly, his voice unreasonably stable despite his wracked nerves on the inside.

There, Robin sighed inwardly as the secret words fled his mouth, his hearts desire out.

Shock rocked Regina at his explosive words. Her jaw slackened at bit as she was struck by his query. Anxiousness clenched her heart in jagged, icy claws that scored frigid marks down her strong heart. Those words could not have crossed his lips. They couldn't have. "What do you mean?" her voice queried lowly to shroud what bubbled tempestuously in her heart.

Was he not… disgusted by his son's words? Why would he want a woman dubbed the "evil queen" to be some sort of motherly influence to his son. She wasn't winning any mother of the year awards. In fact she was an outcast, probably worse than they were now that peace ruled. They were seen as heroes and could flaunt that freely. She had nothing of the sort to boast. Out of a camp of bandits and marauders she was probably the worst influence there for a small boy.

"Is it so bad that he sees you as a mother?" the archer challenged helplessly, his words clearer than before.

Stunned surprise stamped Regina's face in an immutable casting of unfathomable incomprehension. Had those words just left his lips again and in an even more direct manner? Was he asking her….

Before a reply could burst past her lips a twig crunched before them.

Simultaneously the pair jerked their heads to the tangled woods before them. Their eyes intrinsically searched the thick mess of branches and undergrowth and vines and suddenly they viewed what their patience had rewarded them.

The soft brown hide of a deer stamped tenuously into view at a moderately distanced clearing. The doe was speckled with white spots and looked quite plump for the failing months. The ears twitched nervously, strained for any sound and the nose quivered, sending gouts of opaque white billowing from its black nostrils.

One leg raised, the beast observed the immediate area, not even glancing their way, before cautiously bending its head down to graze tender shoots not yet grabbed by the chill.

To Robin the deer was a gift from the deities themselves. After the stupidity that had just left his lips, the distraction was the sweetest blessing. Her surprise had said everything she did not. Why would she wish to be anything to Roland? Did she think he had just brought her into the camp for that purpose? How could he explain that wasn't the case if she did?

Yes, the archer conceded inwardly with a scowl, those words had not come out right at all. They didn't explain what he meant.

At least the deer would perhaps give them place to scramble away from his utter idiocy.

"See," Robin whispered furtively to the witch, desperate to leave his foolish inquiry behind. Quiet as death itself, he motioned for her to hoist his bow up.

Awkwardly, Regina raised the bow in which she wasn't even novice to wield. Hands wrongly placed she managed to notched the arrow but little else. Still, she reconciled inwardly, anything was better than having to make a response to his words that implacably stunned her.

Heat flooded her cheeks in a soft pink of embarrassment as she bungled with the weapon. A curse nearly blasted past her lips but she checked herself before the words fell from her mouth. By all the magic in all the realms, why were things around him so horribly difficult!

"Let me help you," the thief offered softly.

Moving behind her like a wraith, the bandit canted his head to the left and lifted his arms to help her. Right hand over hers, his shifted his bow calloused digits over her soft counterparts and pinched her fingers properly over the feathered end of the arrow with his over her own. With his left hand he placed her hand right under the arrow to prop up the shaft. His bigger, rough hand cradled hers to keep the arrow in place.

"Now," he instructed quietly. "Take a deep breath. Calm yourself and clear your mind. Don't worry about the doe, the world around you or even the bow. Put your mind into the shot, what it will do, where it will go. Everything else falls into place after that."

Nodding slightly the former witch drew the bow to full form. The tip of the pale gray goose feather tickled the right side of her visage whilst the scruff of the archer unshaven cheek flirted with the other. Uncertainty shivered through the witch as she tried hesitatingly to align the shot with the doe. Her fingers trembled against the notched arrow, threatening to release the shaft far sooner than intended.

"What if I'm just a poor shot?" she asked suddenly. Low melancholy hemmed her voice in a deep seeded fear and morose that long fettered in her heart.

They both knew she was not referring to the archery.

She couldn't keep Henry, she couldn't keep Owen, everything she touched seemed to wither and die in her grip when she chose to love it. What if the simple fact was she was unfit to rear a child? Was that why fate kept taking them away?

Slowly the archer turned to her, his face filled with comfort. His warm breath ghosted across her cheek pleasantly in the coldness of the day. "You're not. I know you aren't." He read her meaning beneath the nervous words as though she had spoken them plainly. "You are the most amazing woman I have ever met in all my days," Robin admitted, his voice barely above a deathly whisper. "I don't think it possible for you to be poor at anything."

She was everything, clever, wise, willing, and beautiful. No, there was nothing she could be poor at, not with a bit of practice and patience.

Slowly, Regina turned her face to him. Her eyes studiously studied him as though she peered to the soul behind his brown depths. What fount had erupted in his heart to speak those sudden words and the ones before that? What mystical balm did they contain that so soothed her grief stricken soul? Why did they rock her to her very core? Why did she believe that he believed every word?

An urge bubbled in her like an active volcano set to erupt. His words were an amorous lasso around her heart and her soul could only comply with all of her mortal being.

Tenuously, her lips crept to soft mouth. Vapors trailed a stream of milky white from her mouth before her lips sealed against his.

Warmth pulsed through Regina in an indescribable wave of unadulterated, unfathomable glory. Her heart battered wildly against her chest as though to be free and meld with his. The world faded out for a moment into nothingness. Her eyes closed in an intangible ambrosia of bliss. He felt whole and real and sturdy and right.

Yes, he felt right.

Showers of sparks burst in Robin Hood's mind as they joined in a kiss. The softness of her lips was akin to silk against his. Her sweetness enveloped him and melded her to him as though they were one. Never had the fact hit him so hard that he was a lowly thief and she, yes, she indeed was a queen in every regard, beautiful, wonderful. Regina.

Shock and desperation mingled upon Robin's face when at last they parted. His eyes searched her in a gentle awe that denoted he had felt the same bliss as she. The kiss had not lasted longer than ten seconds but felt like an eternity.

Lips barely apart, he gazed deep into then endless eternity of her brown orbs. "Please stay, Regina," he begged whisperingly. A stream of white slipped from his barely parted lips so that his soul seemed to have dragged the words straight from his heart.

"For you or for Roland?" Regina returned breathlessly, her eyes tethered to his in the same gentle awe.

"Both," Robin admitted freely. "He needs you, Regina, and so do I."

Despite his reasoning otherwise, his heart told him, screamed to him, so. He could deny that for only so long. Of course his denial had been all the easier before the threat of her leaving loomed before him. That was the cause of his pain, the last link that had been broken to free what he had chained down, he knew implicitly well.

His heart could not take her leaving. He loved her. No matter how preposterous the notion was, his heart screamed that truth.

Were his words true, Regina marveled ponderously. Her mind seemed akin to a raging tornado snatching up every thought and mashing them and shredding them all in a blur. Astonishment raged through her in a gale that howled through the very marrow of her bones. Could he really want her so? Was that… thing, feeling she had locked up behind her walls not a single prisoner, but one of the same chained away in another soul as well?

Abruptly, the witch pressed her lips to his again, her kiss urgent and hungry. His words were like magic itself. He was not disgusted by his son's words of her being like a mother. Robin Hood wanted her to say. He wanted her.

Exploring the foreign paradise of the contours of his mouth, the witch felt her walls crumble to ruin and accept all of him against her unguarded heart. The prisoner long kept at bay in her soul scrambled to meet his, and meet they did.

How many long days had she craved him and scolded herself over the pang of want. How many days had she had to hide a smile where he was involved. How many times had she had to check to make certain that same feeling he shared was good and buried deep within?

Now, he reveled his attraction to her as well. He wanted her to stay, he prostrated himself with that need. By that same shared link betwixt them he had summoned the gumption to go against his men's wishes to fly in the face of their hatred for her.

How could she leave him now? He was not upset by his son's words. His own softly spoken adoration betrayed that he wanted her, that his own affection had grown for her. No, she wouldn't leave. She would pass the winter with Robin Hood, and perhaps many more.

Inwardly reveling in her new decisions, she smiled and deepened the kiss against his sweet mouth. Her senses wantonly imbibed the sheer essence of him. Oh was there any sweeter thing in all the realms?

Disentangling his lips from hers this time, the archer smiled faintly. "Will you stay?" he asked again, his voice as lambs wool.

"Yes," Regina declared, a grin forming upon her mouth. A slight laugh slipped from her tingling lips. "But I fear that's the only thing we'll have to show for our time out here. And I doubt that will suffice the men in your camp."

Laughter huffed gently past Robin's lips. His eyes gleamed mischief and exuberance. "It doesn't have to be. We still have supper to catch."

"That we do," the witch remarked and turned her attention back to the clearing in the woods.

Amazingly the deer was still there, oblivious to the conjoining of two hearts. For Regina, she felt nearly guilty to try and steal the its life.

"The shot is yours, majesty," he spoke the old name fondly and moved from behind her

Taking a deep breath, Regina soothed herself. Her pent nerves settled as she locked her mind. Robin was hers, Roland was hers, and so too would the deer's life be hers as well.

A displeased noise softly clicked from Robin's mouth as he observed her. Rolling up his sleeves in a business like fashion he moved behind her again. "Here." He moved his right arm to adjust her hand placement on the bow. "Just a little higher up."

Breath caught like a boulder in Regina's throat as his arm glided against her skin. The touch of his fingers sent electricity down her spine, but froze her blood as her lingering eyes roved up his arm. A black tattoo of a lion rampant sat penned upon his flesh. The sleeve he rolled back on the arm unquestioningly reveled the image she knew only to well. The tattoo she sometimes saw in her dreams.

Shock struck the witch like a brick to the side of her head. Alarm gleamed fire in her brown eyes. No, it couldn't have been; simply couldn't.

Abruptly, her fingers eased in shock and slipped on the arrow. The projectile shot haphazardly through the foliage like sent from drunkards hands. Leaves rustled a disjointed alarm as the arrow skimmed the ground and lay under a bed of newly fallen foliage.

Alert, the doe raced off, much like Regina's heart, in fear.

Deer far gone from her mind, the witched through swirled in a disastrous mix of emotion. After all this, after all the time she had spent hating him them begrudgingly finding common ground, then to growing affection, she finally saw why.

True Love.

Lurching forward the witch disentangled herself from his grasp. Dropping his bow across the fresh, crisp leaves, she stumbled away and turned to face him all in the same motion. Agony ripped through her heart with serrated daggers as she lumbered backwards away from him.

"Regina, what's wrong?" Confusion filled the archer's voice at her disturbed display. Why did she look so haunted?

Eyes stapled upon the tattoo, she shook her head faintly. "No, no, no, no! This isn't possible, this isn't real." How could she find her true love in the woods? Had fate just plucked her up into a new family? Did some cruel deity see fit to make her life and love a plaything to be erected and dashed at a whim?

"What isn't real?" Robin extended his hand for her to take.

The hand that led to the arm with the lion tattoo.

Panic swirled in Regina's mind with the prophetic silence of his tattoo and the fate that had been erected for her. In the midst of the wild woods how had love found her? She wasn't the Charming's! Yet there he was. And there she was… falling in love with him.

"I can't do this." Hot tears brimmed crystalline in her umber depths. Bottom lip quivering she backed away from the fate that met her so unexpectedly. "Tell Roland I'm sorry I had to go. I can't do this. This life isn't meant for me."

"Regina, wait!" Robin thrust out his hand as she backed away. Desperation lined his visage. "Please don't do this."

Shaking her head she slipped away into the tangled woods. She couldn't be there with him. She couldn't.

Frozen, the archer watched as she turned away and raced through the woods. Sadness and confusion all swarmed through his mind as his eyes tracked her as far as they could. Why had she left? What had frightened her off?

Despondent, the bandit knelt and plucked up his bow. Turning the weapon in his hand, the thief shook his head and turned away to head back home. Why had she changed her mind and how would he break the news to Roland?

~8~8~

The first signs of night were just beginning to cloak the forest as Robin marched back into camp. Despondency permeated his features like a brand that he could not clear away from his visage.

Regina was gone. Abruptly, viciously torn away from him right after his lips had met hers. Right after he made his hearts plea known, right after he thought she would stay and make his pain all for naught, her was struck with an even bigger blow.

Spotting his son playing by the fire with a toy one of the lad had made, the archer marched stalwartly over to him. A weak smile adorned his kips as he kneeled to the playing boy. Stifling his own pain, he took a deep breath and locked his emotions away. "Roland… I have some bad news," he began strongly.

"What is it, paw paw?" The boy looked up from his new toy. His soft brown eyes searched behind his fathers shoulders. "Where's Miss Regina?"

Pain shot through the archer's tenacious heart like one of his own arrows. Face grim, he forced himself not to look away from his boy "That's what I need to talk to you about, son."

Perhaps his voice gave it away. Perhaps, the look on his face told the story his lips could not. Perhaps his very heart shouted the matter that so painfully scorched his very soul to char.

"She's gone?" Roland queried insightfully, his vice low. Lowering his eyes, the boy dug the feel of his boot into the dirt. Silence settled imperatively about him for a moment before he spoke again. "Did… did I make her leave?"

"No, no Roland," Robin assured quickly. Blinking back tears, he stroked his son shaggy brown hair. "She wanted me to tell you she loves you very much. But she couldn't stay."

Eyes pinioned to the ground to keep back tears, the little boy scrubbed at his nose with his sleeve. "Why, paw paw?"

He could have lied. In his own torn emotions he could have said because she didn't care, because she was an evil queen, because she was no good, but he would have rather dug his own heart out than that.

Never would he destroy Roland's image of Regina.

"Sometimes… sometimes these things happen," the outlaw explain poorly. How could he tell his son that his actions hunting had driven her off?

Nodding faintly the boy kept his eyes to the ground. "I… I see paw paw," he claimed quietly.

"I knew you would, son." Robin patted his son's shoulder heavily as he rose.

No, he didn't understand, Robin knew very well, and to be honest neither did he. Roland knew she cared. With their actions in the forest Robin knew she cared, so why had she run off?

Shaking his head, he looked sorrowfully to an intently watching Little John. "Watch him for a bit would you John?" he managed stalwartly.

"Robin…," John began but a look from the archer stopped his words.

"Not now, old friend." The thief swallowed hard to steady himself.

Why did he need to speak with him? The lads had gotten their wish. Did they need to see his despondency as well?

Without looking at anyone, the thief strode forlornly into his tent.

~8~8~

An hour passed in tortuous solitary for the outlaw.

The darkness was a blessing as he stood in the empty domicile. Gone, his heart wept. She was gone. The words dragged through he mind like sharpened glass. Her departure shouldn't have hurt so much, a part of him noted, but by all the magic in all the realms, her gone was akin to spikes in his chest. But why?

Raking a hand viciously through his brown hair, he paced like a caged beast until he was sure a furrow formed inside the tent. What had he done to drive her off? What had he said? What scared her away?

Perhaps he could reconcile with himself if he knew the reason for why she departed so suddenly. Perhaps his ridiculous heart would settle if he just knew why. Was she angry, afraid, or perhaps sad?

None of this he knew, only that she looked at him as though he were a ghost. How had he sparked such fear in her? Why had he struck such fear in her?

He didn't know and that… that drove him mad.

"Robin!" Little John bellowed as he ripped back the tent flaps. Fear and panic lined his hairy face in the crepuscular glow of failing day. His breath bellowed as though he had run for miles. "Roland's gone, Robin! One moment he was there and the next moment poof!"

Surprise, panic, fear, should have gripped the archer at the declaration, but none did. Calmness oozed through him in cool soothing that tendered his heart. At once he knew what had occurred.

Sighing slightly the archer shook his head. "He's his father's son," Robin noted aloud in admiration

Slowly turning from the majordomo, the bandit began to gather things strewn about the tent. Grabbing packs and canteens he did a head count of his arrows as he made hasty arrangements.

Untold shock branded the large man's visage. "What do you mean by that, Robin?" John yelled, his dark eyes alit with intense confusion.

"He's doing what I should have done in the first place. What I should have known to do hours ago." Robin slipped the filled quiver back over his back and grabbed his bow. "He's going after Regina."


	13. A Night of Light and Dark

Uncommon brightness lorded mellifluously over the world of the wild woods like a lookouts newly trimmed lantern in the satin night. A pregnant, harvest moon hung gibbously in the twinkling darkness. Oblique slants from the round topaz orb stated down silver liquid beams of tranquil fairy fire upon the entire realm leaving the night akin to a dim evening and not a darkened world. Not a single cloud marred the brightness to adumbrate any lustrous brilliance upon the harvester's night.

A solitary gray owl hooted an eerie treble of glee from a rotted elm perch in the midst of the woods, telling the tale of glorious night through the forest dark. Nocturnal beasts that prowled the woods, with an unusual easiness, clambered about on their business with no shroud of darkness to offer them succor. The night was a pearly delight wrapped in mystic loveliness that coaxed even the shyest of creatures out to enjoy the crisp midnight.

All about the world seem right and beautiful and calm. All except Regina.

Pain stabbed lances of acrid acid into the deposed witches black heart as she leaned her back against a half rotted oak. Silver moonlight spilled over her, casting her raven hair into a waxy sable and her face into a spectral white. Head perched miserably to the clear sky, she closed her eyes tight against the iridescent light that poured forth.

Agony seemed to slip under his skin with the pallid light. What she would not have given to blot out the moon and all light, to drown in a sea of black and know no radiance to ever steal upon her ever again.

Mouth pinched into a frown she tenaciously bit back a forlorn cry of her own. Her lush lips quivered tremulously in the pale light, leaving no illusion to what she felt inward Agony slashed wantonly at her despaired soul. Bloody tears piteously coursed down the rivulets of her heart.

True Love. The words dragged rusty nails treacherously through her spirit. True Love. She had been with her true love all along, unknowing set to fall for a man who had generously taken her in. But how could that be? With her first few months of exile in woods she had resigned herself to loneliness. Now her love had been before her, coaxing out that want and desire. Why did happenstances in her life always seem to go in direct opposite of what she desired?

Was fate really so flippant with her life to toss her emotions like a cup full of dice and roll them out on the table of life in some cruel gamble for amusement, the wager her heart and soul?

A nearly imperceptible whimper slipped in a deathly whisper from betwixt her closed lips at the deplorable thought, sending a stream of milky white curling into the air. Was her poor life truly just a series of hardships or did some higher power enjoy toying with her life so?

Sliding down the rough bark of the tree dejectedly, the witch landed upon the, leaf strewn ground. Glistening diamond frost rimed the edges of leaves and upraised roots all about her so that the world seemed encrusted with her despair and the fragile essence of her heart.

Hands curled into tight fists, the witch stoically fought back another wave of tears in her abject misery. Mind awhirl she tried futilely to calm her wracked brain. Why; the singular, ubiquitous word rang raucously throughout her head with the peal of despaired forlornness. Why, why, why, why, why!

Why her? Why life? Why love?

Pulling her knees up, the former queen placed her forehead dourly upon her kneecaps. Wrapping her arms around her legs she enveloped herself for warmth and pity the same. Her once squared shoulders so stoic and regal slumped dejectedly as though the entire weight of life rested precariously on her back with no sign of ever to ease.

A watery frown pulled inconsolably upon her quivering mouth now hidden with her bent face to block out the illuminate night. The tingling of the kisses they had shared earlier in the day still lingered deliciously upon her mouth. The sweetness of his lips left an indelible taste upon her tongue she doubted she would ever be free from.

Even hours gone she could still feel every contour of his mouth pressed against hers. She could still feel the roughness of his cheek tickle her smooth skin. By heaven above she could even see the smoke that fled his mouth from their heated exchange. She could feel the steam gliding over her lips and creamy skin and curling across her cheek before the sensation fled. She could recall every detail, every moment.

"Curse him," Regina muttered tortuously, her voice invariably muffled. "Curse him, curse fate, curse True Love!"

For years she had coped with the painful fact she would never know her true love. She had settled herself to that fact a long time ago. She had fastidiously built walls upon walls and assiduously braced and shored her heart to never again have that chance.

Over time, she had resigned herself to never knowing love again in such a manner. To know at least she forever had that had been a comfort at times and now even that was gone. Fate had not even left her the pride to know she had kept her True Love at bay.

Abruptly, brush rustled faintly to her right as the thoughts slogged through her tormented mind. Twigs snapped in a steady tempo her way as she remained silent and aggrieved. Night birds fluttered from their disrupted lofts and cooed softly in affront in the undergrowth at the sudden sounds grew closer.

Instinctively, the witch tensed but did not lift her head up. Sorrow weighed too immutably upon her heart than any sense of danger that her body could summon to take care of her welfare.

Perhaps, she supposed inwardly, the disturbance was a wolf that would eat her whole. At least then the pain would be against flesh and not against the black heart that wept plaintively in her chest.

Stalwartly, the ex-queen tried to block out the noise as the sounds grew louder. Whatever approached mattered not. Nothing mattered.

"Miss Regina?" a tiny, wary voice inquired concernedly quite close to her. Placing a small hand on her shoulder Roland looked down with concern to the woman he had grown to know. Head canted to the right he stared at her as though she was irreparably ill.

Slowly lifting her head up, the witch found the boys eyes. His soft brown orb glowed with concern for her in the bright light. A streak of dark black dirt swathed his left cheek and a few golden leaves hung from his unkempt hair in a mess that told he had been long on the track.

Surprise molded Regina's face in a wave of soft, stunned awe. "Roland," she spoke his name as though awakening from a dream. Was it a dream, she pondered momentarily but instantly shook the thought away. She wouldn't have felt his hand upon her shoulder if he was but a figment. Yet that had to mean…. "You're a long way from camp. A very long way. What are you doing here?" Concern crafted her pallid face.

"Paw paw told me you left," the boy explained simply as any teacher to a student would. Bashfully he dropped his head like a scolded, guilty child. Hands behind his back, he fought to stand still. "So… so went to track you. It's so bright tonight finding you wasn't real hard."

Waves of tumultuous emotions crashed disastrously against Regina's morose heart at his loyal, childish declaration. Sadness and love and amusement all irrepressibly battled for dominance across her pallid visage for the sweet boy. "That was very admirable of you, Roland," she gusted a watery sigh to fight back tears, her lips forming into a sanguine smile.

Slowly unwrapping a hand from her knees she lifted her hand and wiped the smudge of black dirt from his face in a signature motherly fashion. Shaking her head she marveled at the boy's determination. "You're fathers probably worried sick about you right now."

The way Robin felt about Roland, she wouldn't have been surprise if he was tearing up the entire forest to search for his precious boy.

"I know." The lad rubbed his nose with his green, woolen sleeve innocently. "I'll go back… I just wanted to know what I did wrong," he clarified humbly.

Pity swelled a tide of love for Roland in Regina's mournful soul. Shame crashed through her black heart and bellowed a roaring dishonor that vibrated to the very core of her. He thought her sudden departure was his fault.

Placing a hand on his cheek, the witch smiled sadly. "Oh Sweetie this wasn't your fault," Regina assured softly. He had only brought to attention what was subtly occurring, nothing more.

"Then what's wrong?" The boy sniffed again and looked up. Confusion and dourness marred his boyish face in explicit misunderstanding. "Don't you like living in camp? We could put in some girly stuff if that would make you feel better," he suggested in his childish way.

A soft chuckle of mirth blurted faintly from Regina's lips as she tossed her head. His naivety was adorable and heartening and sad all in the same instance. Straightening, she beckoned him to sit on her lap like he normally did. "Come here." She stretched out her arms to take him.

Clambering into her lap so that he faced the forest, the boy craned his head up to look at her. His brown eyes iridescently shimmered in the night like brown diamonds that pleaded for an answer. "Are you going to tell me why you can't live in camp anymore, Miss Regina?"

"Well," Regina began uncertainly, her mind racing to find the right words he could comprehend. Stalling for a moment, she placed a tendril of her raven hair behind an ear as she fumbled with what to tell him. "That's a difficult question to answer, Roland," the witch explained finally. "You see before I came here, before any of this, I was known as the Evil Queen." A mirthless chuckle of self disgust departed her lips. "The name… fit."

"But you're not evil Miss Regina!" Roland protested zealously. Tiny hands curled tightly into a small fist, he looked as though invisible dissenters calling her such ignoble names lingered nearby and he would have to fight them to preserve her honor.

An involuntary smile perked across her lips as she shook her head sadly. "That's very noble of you to say, Roland, but I was a different person before I came into the forest." Almost by magic her smile evaporated into a lugubrious frown. "As such I resigned myself to only have happiness when I could wrench it free for myself. Remember this Roland, if nothing else, all things come with a price. I long ago thought my price was true happiness, and so it was. Do you see, Roland? I was never meant for true happiness. Not even before I was known as the evil queen, I long ago figured that out for myself. That's how my life has been." Pain wallowed miserably in her brown eyes but she incarcerated her agony behind a stoic face. "And I can't have that again, Roland. I don't know what I'll do if I am hurt like that again."

"So, you run because you're afraid?" Roland searched her incoherently as though Regina and afraid didn't match up.

Blinking back tears the witch nodded. "Yes Roland. I'm afraid of being hurt with a wound no plant can cure, no elixir can heal."

Because she was afraid she would lose what she loved again, she knew invariably well. But at least losing what she wanted was her choice and not one that was snatched from her by cruel fate.

"Paw paw always says we should face our fears," the boy related in a teaching like manner. Eyes looking down at his hands, he fiddled with his fingers in some private childish game to stave off trepidation. "He says if you let fear control you, you'll never get what you really want because you'll always be too afraid to go after it," he recited. "And then you'll just be really sad because you'll know all the time that you could have gone after what you wanted but you didn't."

Such wise words for a child, Regina marveled inwardly. Wrapping her arms around him to keep the lad warm, the deposed queen hugged the special boy tight. For a small boy he explained things so simply, so much like his father.

A sigh huffed from her lips at the thought and her mouth formed into a soft smile. "Your fathers a wise man, Roland." Soft laughter chuckled from her lips as she added, "Don't tell him I said so though."

"Such a compliment from you, Majesty. I'm touched," Robin commented roguishly as he appeared through the woods.

Far more clandestine that his son, the archer materialized seemingly from the frost and shadows. The screen of large trees and tangled weeds and bramble seemed to willingly hide him before they realized him out to be seen.

Steeping right in front of them, bow in one hand, he looked much as he did the first time he had dropped out of the tree to face Regina and his stolen fish. Now however, she held his son, and he knew the strange, hurt woman oh so much better.

Face suddenly aglow with his father's presence the boy leapt up energetically, his spirits buoyed with the sight of his father. "Paw paw!" he scrambled excitedly to his father, tottering in his trek. Wrapping his small arms tightly about his father's legs he looked up happily to the bandit. "I found Miss Regina," he proclaimed obviously, his smile from ear to ear.

"Well done, Roland." Robin playfully ruffled his son hair sending the few leaves from his tresses down to the ground. Kneeling, the wily archer adopted a serious face towards his boy. "But, that doesn't mean you can do something like this again. There are dangerous things in the forest. You can't run off at night, son."

While his son had guided his way, he needed to be taught that without thinking things could get him seriously hurt. Wolves roamed about, rabid beast made their last days through the forest, and who knew what lingered out in the shadows to try and make the boy a meal.

Justly scolded the boy looked down shamefully. "I'm sorry Paw-paw, I just wanted to find Miss Regina. To find out why she left."

"Oh?" The thief craned his head up to look over his son. His dark brown orbs found the witch's disparate orbs. "Did she tell you?" he asked, his eyes pinioned upon her as he spoke.

Nodding the boy grabbed his father's hand. "Come on, paw paw!" He jerked his fathers arm towards the queen.

"Alright, alright." Laughter bubbled from Robin's throat as his boys exuberance. Standing up, he let his boy lead him the few steps to where Regina sat.

Dutifully, as though he actually had the strength to, the small boy tugged his father along close to the witch. "Here Miss Regina." He smiled victoriously as he brought his father along like a gift. "Tell Paw paw why you left."

Trepidation shrouded Regina's heart as her eyes stapled upon the bandit. Slowly finding her feet, the witch stood to face Robin eye to eye. Sweat pricked upon her palms like melted frost and she nervously rubbed them against the side of her dark green breeches whilst they stopped before her.

Shame for so cowardly running off bit at the edges of her tenacious heart but she ignored the humiliation. A soft frown molded her lush lips as she turned her eyes away from the father and comfortingly at the boy.

"Roland, Sweetie, things are a little different when occurrences comes to me and your father," she explained carefully.

How could she possibly explain to a little boy that his father was her True Love? How could she even explain that to Robin Hood? How could she even explain such to herself?

"Actually, Roland," Robin tenderly interposed before she could find the words to explain. "I need to speak to Regina alone for a moment or two."

Confusion obtusely marbled the boys round face and he looked up to his father. "But Paw paw she needs to tell you why she left," he explained adamantly as though his precious father did not understand the simple concept. If he knew what was wrong then maybe he could fix what had been broken.

The thief tossed his head negatively. "No, son she doesn't," Robin stated softly but firmly to his boy. Eyes still clapped upon her, his lips formed into a miniscule, sad smile. "In fact it's exactly the opposite. I need to explain why I came after her."

Breath hitch in a sharp intake in the center of Regina's throat at his blatant declaration. Uncertainty glistened jewels of insecurity in her fathomless maple depths. Frantically her eyes studied him like a foreign creature only she knew this one far too well.

A half flustered sigh fell from Roland's lips at their confusing ways. _Adults_. Shoulders slumping the boy shifted from in-between them. "Okay Paw paw," he assented regally as though he were some guardian and began to march away.

"Don't go far, Roland," Robin cautioned behind the boy as he tottered off to leave them be and talk of grownup things.

Fondness waxed upon the thief's lips in a fatherly smile as the boy slipped away noisily into the woods. Shaking his head he turned back to Regina with a heavy tongue and a heavy heart. Roland would have to leave his mind for a moment. Now there was only he and Regina.

"You don't need to explain anything to me, backwoodsman" Regina interjected crisply before a word could leave his lips. Coolly crossing her arms the witch cast her gaze to the left to look away from him and into the silver doused woods.

A laugh spurted redolently from the archers lips. "But I will anyway." Inching closer he turned and set to her right. Leaning his back against the tree the same way as she, he looked out into the beautifully illuminated woods cast before him in the nocturnal hours.

The bright moon seemed to gild all the world in liquid silver. Titanic trees devoid of their cloaks glowed luminously in the titanium sheen for miles about. Tranquil moonbeams slipped through the tightly latticed limbs in a mystical shower of platinum luminance that dazzled the eye and soothed the frantic heart.

The world was peaceful and at ease on the harvest moon night and none seemed in riotous disquiet.

How much different from his heart, Robin noted inwardly. Inside he was a raging storm of emotions that refused to settle. The world could have been paradise but his soul was still in the torments of stormy weather.

"I'm sorry if my affection for you frightened you off earlier today," Robin sighed irreconcilably, his lips a displeased line. His entire body heaved in a plaintive breath that shook his form. "That today… those feelings were building in me. I don't know how or why but they did. You're leaving… I wasn't prepared for your departure. My feelings have inordinately changed for you, Regina since first we met. I still am not ready to see you go." His words fell low. "I don't think I ever shall be."

For her to leave felt only second to Roland if he was ever spirited away. How could he cope if she were gone? His heart would become a half limp, barely palpitating, bloody sack riddled with wear if she were away.

A mirthless laugh fled from Regina's quivering lips. A tear surreptitiously slipped from her eye as she listened to him spill his soul. His proclamation was like arrows sent from the bow of his lips to her heart. The shafts thrummed in the center of her spirit sending waves of emotions shuddering through her form.

For but a moment she would have killed to have her heart ripped out, to not feel his words strike so deep. How glorious to be numb! Oh what so rare in her life would she have given to have his words hit the fastidious walls of her heart and no more!

"I will say what I said earlier." Turning to look at her, he placed a hand on her shoulder. His thumb ghosted over her the edge of her neck in a reassuring touch. "Please come back to camp, Regina. Not for Roland this time, but for myself. I want these feelings to grow for you and I know you want the same."

His touch, so rough and smooth all at the same time tingled irrevocably against her skin. Electricity crackled off her flesh from his touch. His words were a pipers cajoling tune she ached, needed to hear to sooth the darkness in her heart. She wanted to follow him, to clutch him, to toss her disillusionment from her heart and simply drown in his ardor.

Every muscle in her body screamed to for such.

He was every kind of right for her.

And that, Regina bemoaned woefully, was why he was wrong.

Jerking her shoulder away, the exile fully turned from him as though she was not worthy to be seen by him. Head craned down, she fought back the tears that threatened to spill in cataracts of misery. "You don't understand." Her lips quibbled tremulously. "This is what I want. This is what my heart wants more than anything else in this moment."

Pushing off from the tree notorious outlaw face her back. "Then what's the problem if this is what you want, if you share the same ardor I possess?" Confusion hemmed the archer's voice. Why would she deny herself love if she could but just reach out and take what he offered?

Pain and regret shuddered through the very marrow of her bones. Sickness sloshed irascibly like a storms insoluble waves in her stomach. Her heart ached almost with physical pain. "Because, Robin," she spoke his name aloud for the first time. "I never get what I want. All my life I've never had what I wanted, not for long. I have my desire just for a moment to reach a peak of happiness, when I think this time things will be different and then…." She swallowed back the mountainous lump that resided in her throat. "It's gone. Always. That's happened with everything single thing in my life, Robin. Every. Single. Thing."

"Not this time," Robin swore fervently, his face a picture of love and determination. "It won't."

Tears streaming down her face, she turned to him, her face a pall of fear and uncertainty. "How do you know?" she demanded in quiet turmoil. Those were only words to try to balm her pain. They could not comfort, they had no certainty behind them. He spoke out of an emotional heart, not of the reality she knew.

"Don't you feel this between us; something that is so rare and precious that is so weak but so strong? I know not what it is that binds us but it is here. That is how I know it will not fail." His face crumbled pleadingly. "It's worth the risk. Isn't it worth being daring? You always say I dare too much, Regina." Raising his right hand he tenderly brushed away a rebellious tendril of sable hair from her pale, tear stained cheek. "Won't you be the one who dares this time?" he begged gently, his heart bleeding into every whispering word.

A shiver slithered through Regina as his words and fingers touched her. Carefully, ever so carefully, she delicately handled his words as would the most precious glass. Could her heart endure another pain? Could she bear the threat of more agony scored upon her already scarred heart? Did she dare to be daring? Did she dare let her heart open for an insufferable backwoodsman? Did she dare take the chance at True Love?

Closing her eyes, a breath shuddered through the torn exile as her heart spoke. "Do you remember when I bargained your clothes back for those threes questions," she inquired abruptly, barely above a whisper in the crisp night.

"That's not something you forget so easily." Pained laughter tumbled onerously from his throat. An incorrigible smile valiantly tried to twitch upon his lips but failed in his agony.

"If you recall I saved one question." Wiping the trail of tears away from her cheeks, she steadied herself with a deep breath, her voice strong and clear of pain. "And it is this." Slowly she opened her eyes and turned to him. Her whiskey depths were clear panes into the deepest reaches of her soul. "Robin Hood do you love me?"

She had to know. She had to make certain. The declaration had to come from his mouth. Only his words now could turn the tide.

Silence echoed luridly about the already mostly quiet forest. Tension reigned palpably through the air as the question lingered like their breath betwixt them.

Did he love her? Four words, such simple words, yet they held a life and passion in them which could not be copied. Those few words encompassed so much in their simplicity.

Slowly, Robin's hand skirted across her pale cheek, his touch warm and gentle. "No," he answered finally, her voice a husky whisper. "I do not."

"No," her voice shuddered tremulously with the word to stave off the anguish from her heart. "No," she repeated again.

Hands curled into fists, the ex-queen balled them tight as though they held the reigns of her wayward emotions to keep them chained. No, she sighed inwardly, he did not love her. That was the end of the matter then. He did not love her. Not in the way love was meant to be.

"If you are intent upon leaving," Robin added sacrificially, his voice filled with tears, "The answer is no. For I could not bear the thought of you being heartsick and weary if my answer was yes and you decided to depart with your heart in tatters. If my no will relieve even the smallest of your pain in your departure then I will tell you no. If I can partake a bit of your torment unto myself the answer will be no. If I can give you one comfort of letting you believe I do not care for you with all my soul and being, to repel even a minute measure of your agony, I will tell you no. If it will give you a moments relief, I will tell you no." Slipping his hand from her cheek, he found her hand and squeezed her fist tightly between them. His watery eyes locked unto hers. "To preserve even a scrap of peace in your heart I will tell you no."

Out of love he would tell her no. He would lie to the desires of his own ardent heart if his answer would be balm her pain. He would shatter an aspect of his own code for her. He would lie to preserve a bit of peace if he could.

Indescribable awe transformed incredibly over Regina's visage. His words stirred at the very depths of her heart. The will to overlook self gratification, to make sacrifice, to speak words he must have chocked on to simply try and give her a moments comfort. That that was love.

Slowly a watery smile broke through upon Regina's face. In an instant he had told her all she needed to know of how deep his love went. Truly True Love resided in his heart. "Robin," the queen spoke his name like the end to an answered prayer. "That is the greatest love of all." She swallowed down her tears and forced pain from her throat. "This is why I can't stay, because of this love you show me."

Blinking away her tears, the witch gazed at him miserably. No matter what he said, he had shown her the depth of his love with his words. He would have done anything for her to be happy. If only he knew that was the exact reason she would forever lament she would not be with him.

"You're a good man, Robin Hood." A weak smile surfaced upon her lips. "I know you're love. I won't forget it. Knowing that is the thing that will make me leaving eas-."

"Paw paw!" Roland's voice cracked desperately through the silver serenity of the forest. His voice, like a hammer shattered the crystalline moment of sorrow into a thousand dark shards that tumbled away.

Almost as if in reply to the boys scream, a bloodthirsty roar resounded through the forest.

Birds fluttered in a panic from the trees and small animals raced past them in raw terror. In a hearts beat the entire forest seem to come alive and tremble in horror. The trees quaked and quivered as the ground shivered with heavy footsteps. Even the silver beams seem to shy away from the world.

Stammering to a halt both, looked to the way the boy had gone.

Another roar bellowed luridly through the forest and the ground shook beneath them again.

"Roland!"

"Roland!"

Both cried out simultaneously, their agony and tears forgotten with his desperate cry.

Ghastly alarm stamped their love torn face, evaporating the sanguine moment shared betwixt them. Looking to one another with horror they read their thoughts almost in one mind as they ran to the source of the noise to find the boy that had inexplicably bound them together.

~8~8~

_A/N: I had to cut it here. This chapter was getting really, really long. I hope the drama llamas didn't overstay there welcome in this one. Also,_

_Oh my ever loving goodness that episode! I'm officially declaring this Rum/Belle "special" day!_


	14. A Night of Light and Dark II

Danger, how imperative that word when applied to a child. How magnified the hazard when a little one falls into the perilous detail of the ominous word. What odious thoughts of threat and ruin hasten through the frenzied mind when a child is said to be in utmost peril?

All thought but Roland fled from Robin Hood's cunning mind as he scrambled through the forest. The image of his precious boy darted before his eyes in the bleakness of the night with every step. Ears strained he followed the noises that invariably disrupted the tranquil night.

Roland was in danger. How could anything make him move like a demon was hot on his trail otherwise?

Brandishing his bow, the archer snapped out a rare hawk feathered arrow all in the same motions. Feet a frantic blur, he ran over gray upraised roots and stones and mossy logs like the patron of the forest itself. In an instant the entire world seemed to part of him to lead him in the direction he desired.

Deftly, the archer scaled a pine bowered, rocky, moss ridden outcrop of stone to view the forest at a better advantage in the illuminated night. Wariness and fear plastered his face as he canned the tangled woodland. Breath slipped from barely parted lips in opaque prayers with every tense exhalation. "Roland!" His eyes scanned the undulating, thick terrain with a hawk's eye. "Roland where are you?"

"Paw paw!" Roland cried out from left side of the ravine.

Tangled dark green brush quaked and rattled like wind being forced through the dying foliage as the boy appeared through the forest. Trampled, wet leaves of brown and dry twigs stuck haphazardly in his shaggy thatch of hair like a disarrayed rats nest atop his head. A large lacerated rip of fabric fluttered from his brown cloak and blood from a scar on his right hand left tears of his vibrant garnet ichors on the thorns and coiled brambles.

Terror enthralled the boy's once cherubic face as he ran to his father with all possible haste his tiny legs could boast. Pushing the brambles and brush away, he struggled against the thicket like a madman. Breath heaving from his lungs in puffs he ran as fast as his little legs would carry him through the brush. Petrified, he dashed without pause to his father eager to escape what stomped after him.

Turning fully to the boy the archer nearly called his name again before the terror that hounded his son arrived.

The rocky slab under the archers feet trembled as the thing that chased his son drew nearer. The naked trees shivered and quaked like the brush about Roland only they were massive, ancient behemoths not spindly weeds and thorns brushed by a child's light hand.

Dozens of the last leaves of fall rustled down in a storms flurry from the quivering trees with the things ardent, enraged pursuit. At once a horrendous creature burst from the veiled screen of naked trees like the direst of nightmares come to life.

Panic exploded through Robin Hood as he clamped eyes on a beast torn from the depths of terror. An ogre.

Taller than three men standing on one another's shoulders even hunched, the ogre was an ugly brute. Pale waxen skin akin to the underbelly of a deep sea fish laid taunt all about the ogre's massive body. Thick, upraised scars of black adorned the creature and swathed his grotesque form. Muscles of unknown strength budged and rippled under the flesh like engorged worms. Three powerful fingers the size of a grown mans full hand bulged and jutted from each meaty appendage. Dirty, chipped fingernails abhorrently protruded from each murderous finger and was sawed to a lethal point. A single hard eye sat in the center of his ridged forehead. Two black slits below the hellish eye billowed frosty steam of the cold night like smoke from a dragons nostrils. Below that a maw of yellowed, jagged fangs filled the noxious cave of the creature's horridly oozing, froth ridden mouth.

All save for a strip of black bull hide slung across the beast's waist the thing was completely naked.

A savage roar bellowed from the creature's mouth as he stomped furiously after the boy. Hurtling through the forest like a deadly comet the brute pounded after the child, no doubt to have him for a midnight snack. His large hands flexed and grabbed instinctively like a crab just waiting for the finality of having something slip into its inescapable grip. Clods of dirt and moldering debris tossed upon into the air with every step the beast took that left craters in the land from its deadly trek.

"Roland!" Regina exclaimed as she came upon the pernicious, lethal display next to Robin.

Her heart sank as she watched the boy futile try to outrun the bullheaded brute. Only the miracle of his meager size had saved him from the giant brutes clutches, but that slowly was dripping out. Helplessness engulfed her with each perilous step the boy took. The woods were thinning out to the ravine. Soon no tree would be there to stall the brutish monster.

The monster could not catch him! Roland was precious to her. He could not be gone because of an ogres appetite. She couldn't lose him.

"Run close to the ravine, Roland!" Robin yelled desperately to his son.

Opaque mist trails billowed out the lad's mouth with every hard step he took. Fear rippled through his body but he trusted his father. Staggering to the edge of the ravine he ran along the precipice. Flakes of grit and dirt trickled down the edge of the gully with years of un-trodden soil.

Bringing up his bow, the archer drew back. His eyes pinioned solely upon the screaming, enraged monster that lumbered behind his son. "Steady now, Roland," he muttered under his breath, his lips quivering. Following the beast with the point of his arrow he drew in a deep breath.

Prayer heavy upon his lips, the archer released the arrow with the skill on a master marksman could possess. A lethal hiss snapped through the air as the arrow hit its mark upon the ogre's bulbous, corded neck.

A scream bellowed raucously about the primeval forest as the brute was struck. The cry was of rage and pain all in one delirious, burning mixture.

Black blood, darker than the night, spurted hotly from the creature's neck as the barbed arrow dug deep through flesh and tendon and muscle. Lurching to a halt the brute grabbed its tri-fingered hand upon its corded neck to stymie the flow.

Rabidly, as though the arrow was but a wasp sting, the brute ripped the cruelly barbed projectile out of his neck with laughable ease. Dropping the arrow the enraged brute clapped a thick hand to his neck in livid pain. Fury slashed the creatures face in a mold of excruciating agony. The one eye squeezed shut in torment on instinct to such blistering agony.

Face alight with rage and protectiveness the bandit found the narrow window of his chance to steal his son's life back. Deftly, like an acrobat, the outlaw leapt from his position on the outcropping of stone. Landing hard on his feet against the covered woodland floor, the archer made straight way to the brute.

A blur in the night, Robin was upon the beast in a hearts beat. Placing his hands of the creature's malodorous hide, the bandit pushed with all his might. Teeth grit, he closed his eyes tight as he focused all his strength to off kilter the monster.

Half unbalanced already the ogre teetered like a toy on the edge of a jagged table. Rock and loose soil tumbled down the ravine as the monster vied for balance. One arm wind milling crazily, the other still pressed over horrendous wound, the creature gave a bloodied garlanded shriek that filled the nights before falling into the darkness of the gully.

Watching breathlessly the witch stood rooted in amazement at the spectacle. Thoughts whirled like a hurricane in her mind that left no thought shadowed and no hope adumbrated by fear. In so many ways things could have gone so terribly wrong. One slip from Roland, one false move from the ogre could have ended both their lives. In moments she could have seen two she had grown fond of wiped from the realms by an enraged monster.

Wasn't that what she was trying to avoid? Oh but running hadn't stopped the danger. Trying to extricate herself availed little. Life, fates, hardships were going to go on whether she was in the mix or not, the witch realized in sudden epiphany. All at once the truth struck her with the forced of a lightening strike. Stunned realization clambered onerously about her thoughts like a sun rise after a long, long night.

Eyes aglow with watery crystals, the witch watched down breathlessly as everything clicked into place that had left her so frightened and confused.

Running would solve nothing. She could run all she desired and yet they would remain stapled upon her heart. She could either bury her head in the sand, or cherish the good times that slipped between the flagstones of the bad.

Happiness was waiting for her along with the bad. Why not grasp joy and treasure the goodness while she could?

"Paw paw you saved me!" Roland exclaimed once the beasts shrill shrieks died from the cold air.

Tottering forward the lad jumped energetically in his father's strong arms. Burying his head in the crook of his father's bandana-ed neck, his tiny fingers curling tightly over the collar of his tunic, the frightened boy hugged with Herculean strength in silent plea for his father to never let go.

Dropping his bow the bandit wrapped his arms tightly about his son. Closing his eyes to block back the sting of tears the archer simply let the warmth of his son seep into his voraciously cold bone. A wavering breath of pent relief escaped his mouth in a ribbon of pale vapor and his lips arched into a watery smile. "Roland, you sacred me half to death! What happened, are you hurt?"

"No." The boy pulled back a bit from the hug and wiped his red nose vigorously with the curb of his right hand. "I was picking some flowers and I stumbled over the ogre. It was asleep. I didn't mean to wake it paw paw."

Hands of Roland's shoulders, Robin looked over the boy as he explained the situation. His hawk eyes observed the scratches and even the smallest abrasions concerning his son. "Flowers?" he half stammered in a watery, relived laugh. All this for flowers?

Nodding rapidly, the boy dug unto a small pocket stitched on his tunic. His tiny hand brought froth a wad of late pale damson asphodels and pretty weeds of buttercup yellow and cerulean all bunched together in a tangle of faded color. "I thought flowers might make Miss Regina feel better so she might come back with us," he explained childishly, his timbre invariably hopeful.

Regina again. Robin would have laughed had he not felt so much like weeping. They had nearly just walked over unto the other side and the lad was still thoughtful of the mother he so desperately wanted.

Death by ogre was already a thing of the past in his son's mind for the moment, the bandit knew, inexpiably well. His thoughts still circulated about Regina.

Swallowing hard the archer adopted a thin grin. "I'm sorry Roland but-

"Stop," Regina commanded softly, her voice breathless as she arrived at the pair down from the rocky outcrop.

Slowing tremulously before she reached them, the ex-witch stared at them warily for any harm. Relief and anxiousness swathed her face in immutable turns of her carousel heart. Looking down at son and father she intrepidly crept closer until she loomed over them. Almost like a forgotten puppet, the monarch fell to her knees next to them so that they created some sort of close, malformed triangle.

A soft frown marred her face as she silent appraised them both and ran the fresh thoughts through her head again like a sweet wine to her senses. Seeing them both in peril had finally shown her what the darkness in her panic had shrouded. The bad would not stop. All she could do was try to battle the bad and hope her heart did not become lacerated beyond repair.

Wrapping her arms about the thief's neck from the right side, she pressed her face to his chest. His heart beat drummed in her ears in a glorious symphony. Having nearly lost them both only let her heart know how she should not forsake her love.

Eyes closed, she did what had beckoned her since the first moment he had made her smile- she followed the drumming of his heart. "I'll come back, you insufferable backwoodsman." A faint laugh of tremulous happiness and relief escaped her lips. Smile forming upon her mouth, she whispered, "I'll come back."

"Then I love you, Regina." The archer wrapped his arms about her sensuous body and hugged her close. Closing his eyes he breathed in the scent of her against his skin. Tears squeezed from his shut eyes as he held her close to his racing hear. "I love you with every last fiber of my being."

Holding them both close, the thief let his love suffuse them. Roland and Regina. Both parts of his heart. One had been saved whilst the other dared, truly dared to fight for her happiness.

Breathing in deep, he abruptly exhaled a wavering, exuberant laugh. "That wasn't so hard was it?"

A watery smile lofted upon Regina's lips despite her effort to shoot him a disapproving frown. After saving his boy, having her stay, he had the ease, gumption, and wherewithal all to make jokes! "It just took an ogre to-"

Abruptly a gurgled roar pierced through the peaceful air once more cutting apart the words that left Regina's lips. Dirt and rock tumbled at the edge of the ravine as a tri-fingered hand dug into the loamy earth. A bloody, bald head jutted up from the ravine like some murderous plant come to life in the dead of night as the undaunted ogre clambered up the side of the gully.

"Go," Robin stammered numbly. Eyes locked unto the beast, he scrambled to get to his feet, his eyes never departing upon the rising brute. "Go!"

Getting to her feet, the witch slowly backed away from the edge. Fear blatantly donned her face in frozen awe. Obviously ogres were not so easily slain. Hastily, her blood aflame, the witch snatched up the tiny boy. At least this time he wouldn't be left in peril.

Turning away from the terrible monster, she staggered to a halt as the boy jerked back. Twisting her head about her eyes stapled upon the ogres fingers stabbed through the young lands cloak.

Not only were ogres not so easily slain, they rarely let a prey escape them.

"Give him here, Regina!" Robin rapidly scooped him out her arms. Jerking the cloak clasp off his son's neck, he faced the forest where they would find safety.

Before he could even take a step the beast caught a higher foothold and grabbed Robin's right leg. Tight fingers gripped in a vice about his leg, rooting him to the spot for the moment he would meet his end.

Roland in his left hand, the skilled archer snapped out an arrow. Holding the projectile by its shaft he stabbed the tip down upon the back of the monsters hand.

A roar of enigmatic pain bellowed sonorously through the hibernating woods as the arrow jammed into the beasts pale skin. Uncurling his fingers as though Robin was a serpent, the beast began to clamber up fully to grasp the man.

"I'll draw its attention," Regina declared hurriedly and gave the archer a quick glance. "Take Roland and run."

Desperation line the rouges face as he looked at her. Pain wrinkled his visage in striations of abhorrent agony but he did not argue with her. Hoisting Roland's close the archer loped off in the direction Roland had come.

Picking up the bow and bloody arrow the brute had ripped out of his neck the witch waved the stained tip in the beast's direction. "Over here, brute," Regina taunted irreparably, her voice a taunt hiss.

Slowly backing away as the best scaled the ravine, she prepared herself to run as well. Perhaps the beast would give chase to her.

Throaty ululations of pernicious rage guttered past the wounded ogre's thin black lips as he finally found both feet on the ground. Fury gleamed like stoked embers of hottest hellfire in the singular eye. Billows of noxious vapors belched from the abominations fanged maw as he jerked his head in the direction the thief had gone.

His entire body heaved and rocked with each haggard breath that escaped his lips. Hot black blood dripped in a steady tributary down the brute's neck in a sable stream of ichors but he seemed barely able to notice.

"Hey!" Regina cried desperately and waved the arrow, her heart racing. "Over here!"

Ignoring her over his lost snack, the creature lumbered doggedly after the archer and his boy. The ground shook as its heavy body stamped over great tracts of land like a rabid bull. Leaves fell in a flurry of its passing as it shot after the pair.

Desperate shock emblazoned Regina's pale features as the brute raced away from her. Hand drooping, the arrow pointed at the ground she started helplessly at the monster's back. Panic and pain thundered and raged perniciously like a summer storm in her heart. Her sacrifice had done no good. The beast was still after them.

Stoically suppressing her hysteria the witch ran after the ogre. Hands tight over the singular arrow and bow she raced in the shadow of the brute. She had to find someway to save Robin and Roland. She just had too.

A curse spilled free of Robin Hoods pursed lips as the beasts cries drew close behind his light steps. Regina's ploy had not succeeded, he knew instantly. The brute had the smell of Roland's child blood in his nose, the sweetest blood to all ogres. He wouldn't stop until one of them was dead.

"Hold on tight, son," Robin mumbled breathlessly to the boy and clutched him tight to his torso.

For Robin the world flew by in blurred flashes of darkness and Birchwood silver. The moonlight latticed his skin in shadow and light as he raced for his life nimbly a deer against a wolf.

Leaping over rocks and logs the archer darted and dashed thought he thick land with an incompressible skill. The ogre, however, Robin knew disheartening, had no disadvantage. Like a walking tornado with the force of a ten oxen, the brute plowed down anything in his way.

Saplings snapped like firewood's under its large feet and logs crashed beneath its weight. Not much could stop an ogre and what could halt one wouldn't hold up for long.

There had to be something, Robin reckoned inwardly, there was always something.

Like a prayer from the heavens as he skidded to the right in the forest, the answer stood before him. A large old beech tree half knocked over by a storm came into view under the silvery light.

The old titan was half rotted in the tragic grandeur of decay from being tossed from the earth. Half the roots dangled out like hangman's ropes freshly cut whilst half still lodged in the ground to nurse the massive tree with enough sustenance to hang on to a bit of life. The old tree looked formidable, at least for the moment.

Tucking his abysmally quaking son close the archer dashed hurriedly to the beech. Grabbing the old roots with one hand, he nimbly scaled the leaning tree with the skill of a monkey. Perhaps, he considered hastily, if he could not outrun the brute, maybe he could out climb him.

"I need both my hands, Roland," Robin grunted and tried to haul himself up further. "Grab unto my neck and don't let go!"

Obediently, the lad clasped his tiny arms around his father's neck for dear life. His breath ghosted against his father's scruffy cheek as he press his forehead into his jaw. Burying his round face into the crook of his neck, he clung like a tiny limpet to the front of his patron

Grasping at the roots the archer hauled himself up bit by bit. His movements were skilled as he took every advantage of the handholds the tree afforded.

Once at a moderate height scrambled up the side of the leaning tree and looked back. His dusky hair whipped wildly in the fall wind as he stared at the brute. The beast was nearly upon the tree and none too pleased.

Behind him Regain, bow and arrow in hand, raced up. Concern wallowed din her face as she peered at them.

Enraged the beast beat his meaty fist upon the tree. Another cry of fury erupted from the brute's lips, the lurid roar shaking the forest.

With the trembling strike, the ancient tree betrayed its age and frailty. In an instant the safe hold the bandit held upon the tree dissipated. Rotted wood caved beneath them, sending the archer through the tree. Old wood and dust spewed in a geyser through the air in a brown miasma of particles as the fell through the aged behemoth.

Twisting about to save his son from harm before he fell through, the archer landed hard upon his back. Pain shuddered like lightening through the outlaw as gravity took its eternal course.

In a hearts beat the tree became some morbid slide. Wood pulp and stuffed termites fluttered everywhere as they fell back to earth. Forever they seemed to slide through the hollow tube that was the fallen tree until they ended up back upon hard ground. The floor beneath them was rotted wood pulp from ages past. Sleek black beetles frantically wriggled out their nests in droves to be away from the sudden activity that so disturbed their homes.

Blinking rapidly to clear the wood and dust from his vision, the archer found himself in the gnarled prison of thousands of hearty roots and face to face with the ogre. The roots latticed them away from one another offering safety in what pitiful way possible.

A tangle of roots curtained man from monster but that mattered not to the ogre's disparate, rabid frenzy. Grasping at the roots with its mighty grip the beats ripped out old chucks of root and tree with half an ounce of it's strength. Straggly trails of roots flew redolently through air as the monster dug to get at them.

Heated frenzy glared demonically in the abysmal monsters singular eye now focused on them both. Translucent slather dripped from its maw in scrumptious delight to taste such a meal. No now could stop it now. No one save….

"The bow, Regina!" Robin cried out from the tree. Scooting back as far as he could, he stared at the beast's eye. "Shoot the beast in the spine!"

If they couldn't kill the thing so easily perhaps paralyzing the brute would do them good.

Coming to a halt behind the ogre, the witch looked on helplessly at the ogres work. It was happening again! Regina saw through her mind. Every time she tried to be happy something tried to snatch it away. This time in the form of an ogre!

What he asked of her was impossible. She had never wielded a bow by herself. She barely knew how to hold the thing right! But if she didn't her love, her True love, a fate she could be happy with would die and so would his son. She couldn't let that happen.

No, she had to fight, even in vain through her battle was. She couldn't freeze. If she wanted this happiness she could do nothing more that steal her last chance at love from the claws of death and fend off the powers that wished her misery.

"Shoot it, Regina!" He ducked his head as another shower of rotten brown splinters rained down. Holding his son close, he screamed over the roars of the ogre. "You can do it!"

Tremulously, Regina licked her lips to steady her resolve. Notching the bow she drew the weapon up awkwardly. Her hand trembled faintly as she tried to line up the terrible shot. The tip of the arrow swayed slightly back and forth as she lined of the arrow and back. The muscled back of the pale ogre was a wide target but then again she had never retaken a shot.

"Regina!" Robin cried again over the furiously pounding of the ogre's meaty fists against the fallen logs.

Hunks of damp, rotted woods spewed abysmally through the air. Harder and harder, the ogre slammed against the old tree. His three fingered hand slammed through the boles of the tree to try and reach the pair. Silver saliva dripped from a fanged maw and a white froth foamed at the edges of its mouth in droll of a long awaited treat.

The dagger like teeth gnashed against the wood to rip chucks out. The stench of its odorous breath noxious overpowered the rotting vegetation filled air, telling Robin just how close the creature was.

Desperately clutching Roland as tight as he could against his body he closed his eyes tight. This was it; right after Regina had been convinced to come with them, right after he had assured her her love would not be in vain they would die at the hands of an ogre of all things!

Abruptly a sickening crack shuddered through the air. Jerking his head up the archer moaned inwardly to see the hole the brute had made widened into an opening big enough to end them.

The sight of the moon burned down treacherously into their little nook of protection like a spot light, leaving them vulnerable prey to the hunter. The full face of the horrid creatures glowed like a demons visage in the moonlight. A smug grin of victory sloped along its terrible maw. Hauling back its right harm the beast began to bring the muscled appendage forward to crush Robin's skull.

As the hand barreled towards them, a familiar, indescribable twang of a bow sang through the hiss. The familiar song of the arrow hissed dangerously through the air then a dry thump.

Blinking its one eyes in shock, the brute slowed from the murderous intent his features foretold. The immense power of his muscles sagged from its body almost in disbelief. His arm curved far off target from the bandit. A large hunk of log chipped off where the brute hit but no more.

Breath belching from the monster, the creature staggered forward a step before careening to the side in a heap of pale skin and limp flesh on it's belly. Muscles twitched upon the creature's body to tell that tale that the brute still drew breath, but barely more than than.

Blinking owlishly a pent breath stammered from Robin Hood's mouth. His mind could barely believe he was still breathing let alone without injury. Safe. Regina had saved them.

Slowly the bandit peered out from the jagged hole the brute had created. As he looked out from the large hole the ogre had created, the notorious outlaw spied just what had occurred.

The arrow she had sent quivered lopsidedly in a tree. Umber feathers on the end still shivered through the air in the unfortunate flora. Instead, upon the ogres back an arrow and conjured weapons of dark purple sat deep in its' back.

Blood oozed from a thousand cuts upon the beasts back each made by a different weapon.

Shock branded the archers as the sight of so many weapons. Where had they come from? Vapidly, he turned his head to Regina. His bow lay on the ground at her feet. Instead a purple glow radiated from her hands.

Stunned at the sight of her grip, the witch peered down at her hands, in utmost awe. Familiar dark power surged with new life through her veins in an unleashed torrent of black magic. Her body thrilled like greeting an old friend as the magic rushed through her blood and bones.

Somehow, someway her power had returned. She had saved those she loved with magic. Perhaps magic had saved her love.

Stunned the witch looked up to find Robin's eyes. Unadulterated, dark glee shimmed jewels in her umber eyes.

Finally she would take the risk to nurse the feelings she had for Robin Hood and now her powers were back in the bargain! What more could she desire! Her love was safe and so was his son. Safe and alive. She could barely believe those two things coincided with one another this time in her life. She had Roland and Robin and a second chance to woo her love.

Abruptly, a dark smile curved her lips as a new thought invaded her awed brain. Slowly, Regina closed her hands into tight fists. Tendrils of dark purple magic swirled about her hand like serpents returned to a loving master.

She had Robin and Roland and magic, she thrilled.

Yes, now she had magic.


	15. Hope in Hopelessness

Magic. A malicious thrill slithered down Regina's spine at the very word. The one precise word felt sweet upon her tongue every time the very irrepressible thought rolled about her mind. Magic. Was there any fairer thought than magic?

Power hummed mellifluously though her veins and pumped with her racing heart with each breath she took in the darkened forest. Pale lavender smoke ghosted across portions of her pallid flesh and curled about her body in thin spiral. In the darkness of the woods, the lilac magic transformed her into a amethyst beacon. An awed smile traced her lush lips as she stared down at her magic entwined fists.

To have magic again, her soul shuddered in exuberant peals of jubilation with the indescribable joy! Magic!

Satisfaction of a long awaited prize steeped deep into her heart like an ignited flame so long dead in her chest. To long had she been without the mystical powers that had made her who she was. To long had she been bereft of the tingle of magic to respond to her commands. Too long had people underestimated her with her prowess defunct of her will.

Now she had magic and that would not be stolen from her again. With magic she was whole again and oh nothing would wrench that from her.

The thoughts of power whirled through Regina's mind in a hurricane of possibilities as she let the feeling of old power restored sluice over her. Slowly, as though just remembering why she stood there, the restored witch perched her head up from her hands to the rescued pair before her.

Irreparable surprise marred Robin Hood's handsome face as he broke through the rotted wood and wriggled his way from the prison of old roots with a wiry ease. Rotted pulp disintegrated at his touch as he half dug and half climber his way from the tracery of roots. His eyes were round brown disks pinioned upon the magic that corded over her hands. Skillfully disentangling himself and his son from the roots, the archer padded softly towards Regina.

How, his sweat stained face seemed to ask in silent questionnaire. Why?

A half smile perked across her lips as she stared at the two bedraggled males before her. Even from Robin Hood the look of stunned, wary awe felt as a long draught of cool water to her parched pride. Only know did he realize he had no idea who he was dealing with. They only knew Regina the magic-less exile that came into their camp. Now they would know all of her.

Lifting her hands up regally, the indelible witch flexed her long slumbering prowess with renewed zeal. Beckoning magic to her call the deposed queen summoned the old spells up from the annals of her mind.

Magic flowed in torrid torrents through her veins eager to bend to her erroneous will with the slightest compunction. Her blood burned with the mingling of power so long forgotten. Oh but her powers felt wondrous!

In an instant, thick vortexes of deep damson enshrouded the trio like tiny cyclones. Spirals of magic cloaked their bodies with intangible power and slipped through their skin. A mystic wind wrought of her power swirled about them as the magic spirited them away from the ogre and the tree. To Robin the world seemed to zip by and within a breath they found themselves at the edge of the outlaw's camp.

Stunned by the sudden use of magic, the bandit staggered tremulously from the powers claws as he walked upon familiar ground. Wisps of dark purple mist evaporated and shred from his green and brown gear to tell of the powers farewell from its task.

A gasp shuddered past his lips as the sensations of power thrummed against his skin. Her power felt like dusty, gray cobwebs sliding over his skin leaving behind an imperceptible residue he only had an inclination was there but could not prove. Shivers thrilled across his nerves but he stoically forced himself from flinching.

Magic was not uncommon to him but such power nearly made him reel. What she used was no novice magician's prowess of parlor tricks but a learned skill forged into a fine point. Regina was skilled in magic. Very skilled.

Tenuously Robin's umber eyes flickered to the witch now to his left. Perilously his orbs searched her as though she were a new woman. "Regina… what…?"

"Not now, Backwoodsman," Regina remarked smugly, her voice hinted with sweet victory. Wicked chestnut gaze pinioned upon the camp, she strode into the bandits enclave with the irrepressible regality of a queen restored.

Numbly, still too shocked by the turn of events, the archer held his son close and followed behind as they entered the camp. Mind whirling the bandit tried to make sense of the last few moments. Regina? Magic?

Bright orange-red embers swirled lazily upon from the blazing campfire as the trio strode into dark camp. All about, the camp was an immutable display of egregious tension. The pitifully few men who stayed all milled about the camp like restless phantoms. Worry laced every face about the grove. Not one soul had slept since they had departed. Some sat on stumps whilst others fiddled with trinkets or wood and knives to keep themselves busy, each awaiting for their leaders return.

As the trio appeared from the forests tangle all eyes turned to them. One by one the men rose as though the dreaded Prince John had traipsed into their home. Surprise and relief donned each rough face at the sight for their leader and his precious boy.

Stalking forward, Little John's beady eyes searched the bandit. Regina was back as well, he noticed displeased. Sternly biting back his annoyance for the moment he turned his attention to the leader of the band. "Robin w-"

"You haven't liked me since I walked into this camp," Regina interrupted primly, her tart voice a dry sliver of ice. Sashaying before the large man, she smiled smugly into his rough, bearded face. "You've tried to make Robin dance me out of this camp every chance you could." Fluttering her left hand lackadaisically, she wielded her magic like a damson, intangible whip. "So you, brute, can do the dancing now."

In a moment, tendrils of opalescent, deep lavender shot from her fingertips like tiny darts. A damson puff of smoke descended upon the large man like fog swarming over his form.

Looking about the hulk paled at the purple smog. His eyes rapidly searched the fog as though the power was a venomous serpent. Brushing at his body he vainly tried to shed the unctuous smoke from his form. Panic simmered in him but he tried to bite back his hysteria. Faster and faster as the smoke swirled about him he brushed at himself but to no avail.

In a heartbeat the magic encased him leaving nothing to be see past the amethyst mist. As quick as the mist engulfed him, the smoke shredded and panicked roar mournfully lowed from the magic miasma.

In lieu of Little John, before them all, a large, shaggy brown bear stood in place of the majordomo. Titanic yellowed claws digging in the earth like knives, the man turned bear stood upon his hind legs like a trained circus animal. The bear body was a massive thing that seemed to make the man Little John seem tiny. Coarse sable fur hung heavy upon the body and the muzzle was a scarred snout rife with pale marks scored there by battles.

Terror and inordinate confusion slashed the beast's large muzzle as his hind legs began to kick out from the magic's compulsion so that he looked as though he danced an awkward jig.

Victoriously, the restored witch turned from the dancing bear that was Little John. Eyes roaming, she eyed every merry man. Fear stamped upon every face in an immutable display of horror. They weren't vying for her to be run out now. Now, they would show her respect.

Smirk wedged upon her lush lips her eyes found Allan of Dale. Sheer, primal terror donned his face in a mask of horror that thrilled the witch. "You called me a stray." Thrusting her hand out, she sent her power to do her bidding.

A cry shot from the swordsman mouth before being turned into a helpless yelp. In an instant not a man but a flea ridden terrier roamed about where Allan had once stood.

"Now let's see." She vapidly turned in a circle, her eyes gazing over the men once more. "Anyone else?"

Knowingly, her eyes turned to the plump Tuck who quivered in abject terror of her restored gift. "Ah yes," she crooned in sweet malice and raised her hand again. "I think I sha-"

"Regina, no!" Robin pounded forward to her breathlessly. Horror marked his roguish visage in untold alarm. Placing a hand upon her left wrist, her wrapped his fingers gently over the appendage. "What are you doing?"

A cold smile festooned her lips as she let the frigid pleasantness of vengeance course through her. "Taking revenge of course. I have a lot of that to do and so little time to do it."

Now that she had power all who slighted her would pay. She would track down every soul that had cursed her and tossed rocks in her banishment. She would soak in the power as they trembled and begged her for mercy. She would look down at them as the pleaded on their knees for clemency from her power. No longer would they spew foul names in her direction. She would be feared and respected again. There deference would be her balm for banishment.

"Don't worry, Robin I will turn your men back as a courtesy to you." A more warm smile tipped her mouth.

Yes, she supposed, perceptively, he would appreciate that for his little band.

"Revenge?" Robin shook his head. "Regina this isn't our way."

A scoff huffed from her smug mouth in a vine of milky steam. "Not your way perhaps, but mine," she retorted coolly.

Searching her, the archer studied the foreign vengeance in her eyes. How had she turned so quickly, Robin despaired. One moment she hugged him and professed her ardor and in the next she was in the midst of their camp transforming his men into beasts!

This was not the Regina he knew.

"Look." He nudged his head to the son in the crook of his arms. "Your frightening Roland."

Breath hitched tightly in Regina's throat at the words that prompted her heart to pause. Vengeance fluttered weakly in her chest in an insipid flame that sputtered inside the depths of her soul. The very name was like a bucket of ice water sloshed over the fire of her pent anger.

Eyes strafing down the witch clapped eyes on the boy. Looking at her, the boy's once pleasant, round face was transformed into horror. His eyes shimmered with implacable terror wrought from her ignoble actions. Fear and terror she had seen with the ogre liberally stamped his face. His entire body shook as though with cold at her terrifying powers.

He was afraid of her. Actually, truly afraid.

"You're not the woman he knows," Robin extorted desperately, "You aren't acting like the woman you really are."

Shame erupted in a boiling geyser through Regina's burning heart as she stared at the young lad. Had she so quickly become drunk again on power? No, she testified stubbornly. This wasn't her.

Bending down a bit to be eye to eye with the boy, she bit back her magic. "I'm sorry, Roland. I had no intention of scaring you."

Truly she had not. Her magic had but gotten away from her in the thrill of having her powers once more. Frightening him had been the furthest thing from her mind.

Peeking his round face out from his father's neck, he eyed the queen warily as he would have a stranger. "You… you will turn Little John and Allan back? Please Miss Regina," he pleaded in a wavering whimper of wariness.

"At once, Roland." Regina waved her right hand, recalling her magic.

How could she even think of losing what she had so tenuously gained with Robin and Roland? How had she had let the moment of magic go to her head so?

Magic hissed discontentedly though the air as the power flowed back into her. Purple steam crackled against her pale flesh and sunk back into her skin with a familiar grace.

Staggering uneasily to his feet like a newborn cub, the giant John rose from the leaf strewn ground with a vengeance as the magic fled him. "This proves what I thought all along, Robin!" John thundered and pointed a quivering, accusatory sausage of a finger Regina's way. His face was scarlet and livid, his lips irascibly twisted into a furious sneer. "Looks how she acts once she has an opportunity. It's us against her lets rally and-."

"No John old friend," Robin replied calmly before the furious man's proclamation could come to an end.

Immediately the giants face fell in a pall of awe. "No?" he repeated in disbelief? "No?!"

What madness had enthralled his friend? What magic had she put upon him to not drive her out after he had just witnessed he and Allan being made into beasts!

"She will be going no where." Robin turned to stand beside the monarch. Looking at the tense men, he faced them bravely. "She saved I and Roland from the hands of an ogre. I owe her my life twice over. That should earn any a right to dwell permanently in our camp."

Shock perforated Little John's once livid face into a picture of taken aback awe. Brow knit into thin lines he shook his shaggy head. That couldn't be right. "An ogre?" he stammered aloud in a huff of mirthless, disbelieving laughter. He gestured half humorously at the thought. "Surely Robin the magic she must have enthralled you with can come up with a better lie than that. Ogres never come this far south. Never."

Even before the battles with the ogres they had never stepped foot into the furthest of the southern lands as far as anyone knew. The lands were unstained with the old memories of battle with the brutes. Deaths from the hands of ogres came from those who had gone north to seek fame and glory and riches not from ogre war bands marauding the woods and hamlets.

Either the ogres had no interest in the southern lands or where to busy everywhere else, but one thing remained clear - they had never made progress so far into the southern woods.

"Look into my eyes, John," Robin instructed calmly, his voice firm and clear like the leader her was. "You have always been able to tell if I am hiding something. Not only would I swear what I say is true on my son's life, but Roland can testify to the truth as well." A hint of challenge flashed in his umber eyes and he perched a brow. "Do you think Regina would place a spell on little Roland as well?"

Though they did not trust nor like her, all the camp knew Regina held a soft spot for the boy. His safety and well being was prime in their minds. Had they not thought she felt the same way they would have never let her get in hands reach of the boy.

Irritated and unwilling to so easily hand Regina's such a deed, the large man opened his mouth to argue. "That is-"

"Robin," Regina spoke his name softly as she interposed upon the bearish John's incoming rant. Walking in between the hulk and the archer the witch stoically faced the giant. Head perched up, she stared at him in his burning eyes. "Let me speak for myself." Her eyes never left the bear as she address Robin.

If there was a moment to start a change, if there was a time to force through a new light even with magic, this was her time. Magic made her whole and now a crossroads was before her. Seeing the terror on Roland's face was like a douse of icy water. She could not, would not allow herself to slip into that old woman so easily. If there was to be a change from falling into the trap of vengeful Regina she had to avoid such a pitfall now.

"None of you, especially you, Little John haven't cared for me since I walked into this camp," the monarch stated matter-of-factly, her voice precise.

John snorted petulantly and crossed his hairy, muscled arms across his tunic. "That's an understatement if I ever heard one."

"Nevertheless," Regina continued, her voice pressed to remain at least calm and without venom, "I can see why you have all had distaste for me. My deeds proceed me and I was admittedly not easy to get along with here. For that," she paused and sucked in a deep, quiet breath to collect her emotions. Momentarily closing her eyes she gathered herself before opening her umber orbs again. "I apologize," she declared sincerely as she bent from her pride.

"I apologize to all of you." She nearly imperceptibly bent her head to Little John and Allan. "Especially you two for what just happened. You were right Little John when you said all those times I did not deserve to be here. I do not, still, but I would like to be. I have grown to find contentment in this camp. Robin does not deserve to have his men who are so loyal to him upset because of me. You all may not like me but I am asking you." She strafed her warm maple eyes over the entire gang. "All of you, to perhaps see that I am trying to change. That was a bad example a moment ago and I lost sight of what I had gained. Using my magic for that was a stupid, foolish thing to do and I apologize again. My hope is that you will be able to see past that and perhaps to a woman who only wants to live her life. I can't ask anyone to like me, but perhaps I may ask we simply have a stalemate; a neutrality for one another. I think I speak for all of us when I say Robin should not fight this battle for me. I am asking all of you, the merry men of Robin Hood's band, plainly, may I stay in your camp?"

Of course she had come back, but the merry men would be a constant problem even if she found her love in Robin Hood or not. Robin might love her but the merry men surely not. She could not in good conscience let their discontent bubble and simmer in dissent whilst Robin and her chose to ignore their discomfiture in the sea of love.

Silence encroached upon the camp in the midst of the southern wood with her inquiry. Logs that popped and crackled dissonantly in the blaze prompted the only noise throughout the camp.

Eyes flickering from Regina to Robin, the bearish John eyed them both for a hint of deceit. He didn't like her, he still didn't like her but never had he thought to hear such words come from her mouth. Her words were humble, and that was a thing to make him reel.

A soft, half resigned sigh fled the man's bearded lips. Rubbing the back of his neck with a large hand, he eyed the archer again. "She really saved you from an ogre?" he asked as though some lie would slip.

"I and Roland," Robin clarified gently. "Without out her we would be dead at this moment and probably in an ogre's belly."

Eyes strafing back over to the deposed queen, he gazed harder at the witch. His black orbs like diamonds glinted under his sloped brow. "You're right when you say I don't like you. I don't know why Robin brought you here in the first place. I can't for the life of me fathom what he sees in you…." His gaze softened a tad. "But," he grunted begrudgingly, "You saved my best friend and his son. Any of us would have done the same, so I suppose in all things considered, that makes you… one of us."

"Aye," Allan of Dale agreed tersely, his voice unenthusiastic.

Tuck nodded sagaciously. "Agreed."

Surprise donned Regina's visage in a pale of awe as she watched them. One by one heads nodded and "ayes" muttered up insipidly through the air. They might not have liked her, but her words had convinced them to at least give her a neutral chance.

"Thank you," Regina repaid in awestruck gratitude after she found her tongue. Perhaps being humble and respectable did have a certain advantage rather than to sow terror with her power.

Standing beside her, Robin placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "And I thank you as well lads. Sincerely."

"So," Roland yawned widely, "Do I."

How could he possibly have a mother if the men drove her out of camp?

At that, John shook a large finger teasingly at the boy. "There'll be no thanking from you young master Roland. Dawn's almost here. You've been up the whole night. Getting chased by ogres and the like."

"Paw paw and Miss Regina saved me," quietly mumbled the lad in sleepy defiance. Eyes fluttering rapidly, his soft breathing slowed to a vapid, sleepy pace as he slipped into the reprieve of slumber. Despite nearly dying twice his little body was exhausted.

Shifting the boy in his arms slightly, the archer broke his voice down into a conspirators whisper. "I'll put the lad to bed." Seriousness slipped through his voice. "Then we need to talk."

"Aye." Little John bobbed his shaggy head and lumbered off to the bonfire.

Confusion wrinkled Regina's pallid visage. "About what?" Her brow knit slightly in curiousness.

"About what happened this night," Robin reveled then slipped away.

His boots barely rustled the freshly fallen leaves as he slipped into his tent. Darkness enveloped the bandit as he entered into the familiar domicile. A sigh of relief tumbled from Robin's mouth in the safety of his forest home.

Back and safe, could any father ask for more?

Padding softly through the tent, the outlaw gently deposited the on his cot and laid him down on the mess of quilts and coverlets and toys that mussed his bed. The bed was more like a nest but perhaps in the forest that was where Roland better belonged.

Never stirring the tiny lad slept like a rock. His hands still clutched his fathers green bandana which had come loose so that he kept the fabric clutched tight in his hands like some miniature blanket.

Serenity encompassed his face so that the thought of being chased by an ogre seemed to not exist. He seemed to be only a tired, precious boy too long at a game but little more.

A fond, infectious smile crept upon Robin's face as he looked at his precious boy. Knocking a ringlet of dark brown hair from his brow, he reveled that his son was safe. Kissing him on the forehead muttered a small prayer before backing away.

Satisfied his son was safe, the bandit slipped from the tent once more into the morning camp. Now that he had Regina and Roland they could face the troubles of the night.

False dawn lingered gray and bleak upon the tips of the tallest, barren trees as the camp shuddered back into normalcy. Ashen, charcoal light hinted insipidly about the forest bringing a bit of luminance that paled from the full orb of night. Shrill, tenuous chirps from awakening birds in their lofts warily tittered out in the chill morn.

A large puff of milky vapors billowed past Robin's lips as he arrived at the bonfire where all those in his camp surrounded. Tired faces of the entire camp glowed waxy in the reddish yellow ofthe flames, each with their own private thoughts so that the gathering looked again to some barbarian ritual.

"An ogre Robin?" Tuck broke the silence first. Hesitation hemmed his wise voice entwined with a cord of wariness. Irrepressible trepidation flickered in his eyes like the flames of the conflagration before them.

Vapidly entwining his arms, the bandit perched his head down to the fire. Thoughtfulness wrinkled his features whilst he replayed the night over in his mind. "Without a doubt, Tuck. This was an ogre. I've seen too many of them in my travels to think otherwise."

"What's an ogre doing in these parts?" John scratched his right, dirty right hand to the back of his shaggy, matted hair. "They never even came this far when they were a problem."

Robin nodded tersely. "Either the beast was a rouge or something drove the ugly brute down here."

"The trouble in the east, the dark cloud?" Regina brought up concernedly and strafed her worried gaze at them all. "Maybe that has something to do with this," she suggested perceptively.

The outlaw nodded again. "Mostly likely but we can't go miles and miles and miles east to see what's going on. Refugees swamp the forest when something like a war occurs. We haven't seen hide or hair of anyone. Besides that isn't our way. We don't fight wars we help the victims of battles and misfortune."

"So perhaps one just so happened to get through and managed to get down here." Allan shrugged. "No one has seen an ogre in years and the lookout for them has been lax. He might have managed."

John turned to Regina. "What'd you do with the body?"

"I chained the thing before we left," Regina reveled evenly, her voice a hint of ice at the thought of the incorrigible creature that tried to make a meal out of Roland. "Ogres aren't so easily killed even with magic. I didn't even know my magic was back until the power just… happened. Believe me if I had known that my magic had returned, that brute would have been ash. So the creature lives for now."

Until of course she could make the brute suffer long and slow for what it had tried to do. With her magic no one would threaten Roland or Robin. No one.

Tuck shook his head slowly and slipped his thumbs under the white cord across his expansive girth. Looking at them all, concern glittered in his eyes. "I still don't like this. An ogre bodes ill for us. You know what they say about ogres. They're like roaches if there is one there's probably more under the floorboards."

"Well if anymore come…." Regina smiled cockily and slowly flicked her right hand smoothly, her palm upward. Flames flickered direly in her grip with the warning unfinished.

Robin shook his head. "We can't go down that road, Regina."

"What?" Sharp offense snapped unexpectedly in deadly surprise from Regina's mouth. Twisting her head to him, she settled her magic only to glare icily at the outlaw. " Ogres could be roaming the forest and you want to tell me we can't use our best advantage to defeat them? I have magic now, Backwoodsman. I can keep an ogre at bay. I can do many, many things. I could turn this camp into an impenetrable castle with a thought if that was my desire."

Did he think she would just keep her magic bottled for some inane reason? Now that she had power the possibilities were endless. With her they could achieve anything that so pleased!

Looking away from the fire, the archer moved to the witch. "That's another thing we have to talk about."

"What about?" dry challenge liberally laced her voice. Harsh disapproving gleamed like fire in her eyes.

Coughing into a meaty fist, Little John awkwardly intercepted. "Lads let's get work done while the suns nearly up, eh?" The bearish man swooped in swiftly. Now, he knew imperatively, was not the time for all of them to be watching them go at one another especially with magic involved.

Quickly, eagerly, taking the advice, the group dispersed to their own chores leaving only Regina and Robin. Better to be out of range of her ire than to be caught turned into anything.

A sigh half in amusement, half in frustration softly escaped the outlaw's lips. Not two hours back and they were already where they usually where. "Let's go talk in private." He lumbered towards the border of the camp.

With a fiery snort, Regina followed until they reached the fringe of camp. Daybreak added a brighter light to the woods allowing them to see one another fully even in the shadow.

Once in the forest, the witch leaned her back upon a large oak. Arms crossed defensively, she glared icily at the man she loved. "What about my magic?" she repeated again, her voice dangerous.

If he was no lover of magic that was too bad. Magic was a part of her, a thing that could not be forgotten. Magic was a part of her as much as her soul was.

"What was the third thing you did when you got magic back, Regina?" Robin asked fearlessly to the deposed queen as he turned to face her fully. If he was wary of the thought he could be turned into something the trepidation never showed. "You turned two of my men into animals the moment you walked into camp."

Coolly, Regina averted her eyes in face of the truth. "You have a point. Admittedly I should not have done that. They are your men. I apologize for using my magic upon them. I won't use my magic for ill on anyone in your band. For yours and Roland's sake."

"Just the merry men?" the archer asked lowly, his voice laced with querulous suspicion.

Sighing in agitation the witch looked back at him. Disentangling her arms, she flexed her fingers as though to keep magic at bay. "Do you honestly think I'm just going to let all the slights that have been done to me go unrequited? I was spat on and cursed. People threw stones at me and plenty worse than that! I have a long list of people who need to be reminded just who I am!"

With her magic back she could do anything. The possibilities were endless. Of course she would be fair to Robin and his men and take special precaution to keep her deeds from Roland, but there was a fire once more ignited in her heart. For months she was helpless, now she had power again! If only for a while she was free with power, with magic.

"Have you learned nothing, Regina?" Robin bickered back intently, his voice low and intense. "Vengeance avails no one anything. Why you have your magic back I know not, but you don't have to turn your power to vengeance. You don't have to use them at all. I just saw what happened when you wielded magic against my men. That isn't you. Roland barely recognized you! The person who uses her magic for ill is not Regina. She is the evil queen of legend."

Shards of ice gleamed in her russet orbs, her eyes narrowed into slits. Taking a step forward, her fist quivered at her side. "They are both," she snapped venomously. "I am not some good hearted soul, Robin. There is evil in me. You know that." Despite her love, her ardor for him, there was still bad. She was both. Regina and the evil queen. There was no separating the two. When matters occurred to threaten her or leave her at a crossroads one would win out.

"I know," Robin's voice softened in a sigh. Taking a deep breath the archer's face eased. A small smile tilted lovingly at his lips at the incorrigible woman. "And I love you still, even with that. But Regina think of things. Will you fritter away all you have earned for vengeance? Will you lose Roland's love? The respect of the lads you have just gained? Will you toss all you have gathered away?"

Searching his whiskey eyes, the deposed queen shook her head. A mirthless laugh huffed from her parted mouth. Had he truly not realized the fact of the matter by now? "You don't get it do you?" She pointed a finger to herself. "I need to do what I can before time runs out."

"Time?" Robin asked in confusion.

"Don't you understand?" Irreparable pain escaped the exiles sanguine voice. "The only reason I was banished in the first place was because I did not have magic. I wasn't a threat. I was nothing. With magic..." She turned her head again, a watery frown half upon her mouth. "I fear they'll send that imp to claim me. I know they will. They can't have a deposed evil queen running about with magic. That's why I need to do this. To appease myself before they take me away."

For all her long months of banishment once they caught wind of her restored power they would swoop down upon her like a hawk upon a hare, she knew explicitly. How could things be otherwise. They feared her when she didn't have magic, how much more so with her renewed power?

Stalwart determination flashed upon the archers face, his eyes gleaming steel. "No one is taking you away," he swore quietly, his words adamant.

They would have to kill him before they wrenched Regina away. After all they had gone through, after he proclaimed his passion for her they would not so easily strip her from him.

"You don't know these people," her eyes gleamed with unshed tears. "They have reason to fear me. Justified reason. No one would argue their decision if they decided I should be locked up."

He smiled bravely. Comfort glimmered in his russet eyes. "Then they are fools, Regina. I know I would feel safe around you in the direst of circumstances. Banishment has forged for you have a new start. With your magic now you can prove that they all were wrong, that you aren't a danger or a threat. Show them that even with magic you could have done so much but did not. Respect their ruling for now. Gain their trust. Reveal your magic when you see your son again. Show them you could have stolen him away, you could have turned your powers to ill again but refrained from that life. I promise they will not look lightly on that matter."

If only he could keep her on the path she had begun with him those months ago. If he could just hold her close and help her along then things would be alright. Together they would help her.

"And in the meantime?" She inquired softly, her eyes studding him.

Cupping her face with his rough hands, the archer smiled softly. "In the mean time I will love you. I will protect you. I will get to know you."

"Will you help me as well?" she queried gently. "To rein my magic in. To help keep me more Regina and less… evil queen? To help keep the woman you know instead of the things that I become with my power? Will you teach me how to… forgive?"

Love roared like a tide inside the archer. She wanted to change, she wanted better not just for them but for herself. Exhilaration and merriment and joy exploded like fireworks within. "I swear on my honor, Regina," he vowed, a smile upon his face.

Surely he could not say otherwise to the woman that held his heart.

"If that's settled then there's only one thing left to do," the witch sighed softly. Umber eyes gentle they shimmered up into the thief's own.

Confusion breached the outlaws face. "What's that?"

A sly smirked donned Regina's lips as the words left his mouth. Fingers curling over the front of his tunic in an owning grip, the sorceress pulled him close. Sealing the space betwixt them, the witch pressed her lips hungrily to his in a long, sweet kiss.

With him to help her with magic and keep the vengeance that prowled her heart at bay there was hope once more in her heart.

~8~8~

Creaking echoed forlornly about the halls of the ominous Dark Castle in a teeth grinding screech. Light from ever burning torches about the room glinted insipidly off the sheen of the ancient spinner's wheel in the great hall. The wheel, once so hastily turned, spun at a vapid pace as though worked by aged hands.

Gray-gold claws languorously glided over the woods as though savoring the touch of the rough grain. Chipped gray nails sullied beneath with black dirt and dried scarlet blood scraped over the wood in a familiar expertise.

A bit of peace housed Rumpelstiltskin's tormented face as he numbly spun the wheel. Eyes pinioned intently upon the carved spokes, he stared at the wood as though he could make the tool burst into flames.

He had been a good slave today so _she _let him spin a bit. Spinning was the only thing that calmed him and offered solace now after she had…. No! He chided himself intently. That pain was too much to focus on at the moment. Better to spin.

"Enjoying your little toy, Rumpel?" the same voice he heard the night everything change asked tauntingly.

Silent as the grave, the fiend focused upon the wheels creaking. Better that onerous noise than _her_.

"Still not talking to me?" the voice sighed as though his silence was of no consequence. "I thought I might get a word or two out of you for giving you your wheel for the night." Tall heels imperiously clicked against the porous stone floor closer to the cage. "Spinning won't make you forget, Rumpel." The voice came closer to the wooden prison bars. "Your Belle is gone and so is your son. You just as well start talking to me because as you and I both know you won't be talking to anyone else ever again. Try as you might its hopeless. Hopeless for everyone."

Mouth a pinched, thin line of gray, the beast stared only at this wheel. He dared not look into her eyes. He dared not give her the satisfaction of his brokenness and misery.

A snort echoed from the prim voice. "Suit yourself then, Dearie."

High Stilettos once more clicked over the stone of the great hall until they faded away to some other portion of the castle.

Once she had departed, the magical monster's shoulders slouched in dejection. Helplessness scored gashes of irreconcilable pain across his scaled visage. Eyes pinioned upon the wheel he wept inwardly. Things were indeed hopeless, the Dark One bemoaned in his shrunken heart. She had come back so unexpected, so out of the blue. No one had seen her coming; certainly not he.

Now because of her arrival Belle was gone and a-

Abruptly a tingling sensation shivered across his body as the despondent thoughts roamed his head. A wave of inordinate power far away called to him in a treacherous whisper. A fellow user of the dark arts flared to life in his vision like a purple flame in the corner of his eye.

A user he knew all too well.

Through all his pain and misery a slight smile grew upon his pale gray lips. Hand hard over the wheel; he stopped the cycle in mid spin. Vengeance gleamed like obsidian chips in his eyes as he peered out from the bars of his cage.

"Hope at last, Zelena" he muttered defiantly in a low trill, his lips barely moving. "At last, at last."


	16. Winter's Beginning

In so little time, how time seems to fly. One moment a portion of life exists, the next the instance an obfuscate memory. How much time is spent learning and fighting and caring?

Fall waxed about the southern woods with the aged dignity of the king of forests. The tress lost their glorious plumage leaving their persons naked and bare skeletons amongst the one thick woods. Sleep washed over the land in a well earned repose from the restored folk.

Winter was nigh and each day proved that fact. The wind grew bitter, the air chill even in the bright noonday sun. The land became hard and even the latest berries that shriveled into wrinkled, brown husks were reaped by the latest of the animal folk in the woods.

Three months had passed and winter was only a few weeks away.

A smirk alit Regina's face at the knowledge of winter. Though the months would be hard, she would see Henry once more!

Lightly stepping through he woods, a bow in hand, the witch reveled in the knowledge seeing her son was not so far off. Winter meant Henry and that mean letting the secret of her power out.

On instinct at the thought, the restored witch raised up her free hand and smoothly twirled the appendage about so that her palm faced upwards. A singular, guttering flame danced in the middle of her palm for a moment in testament to her regained skill. A haughty smile filled her lips before she shook the fire out from her grip. Smoke slithered up in a tendril from her hand, the only giveaway of her power.

She rarely used magic from day to day but just knowing it was there again was a boon.

Of course, once everything was said and done, she did worry about what the insufferable Charming's would think, but that bothered her not as much as the first thoughts months back. Robin has helped soothe her fears. He was her rock every day keeping her where she needed to be when she felt as though a bit of magic would teach a lesson or use her power for gains ill gotten.

From her magic and evil and all that was dark in her, he saw the light through all the black. He saw into the depths of her heart and oh all the world could not stop making him love her, just as nothing could stop making her love him.

For living in a close knit camp hiding their love was not even remotely possible. No one could miss the love in their eyes and they could not, would not hide their ardor. Even when they bickered love could be seen in a resonating glow from them that banished their quarrel quicker than they arose. How they stuck close and acted all detailed their love for one another.

Of course they tried to keep such things from Roland to keep him from the wrong idea, but that was as far as their hiding went. Robin Hood was not ashamed of his love for her, which surprised her all the more.

Still, despite their growing closeness, there were times she needed to be by her self and nurse her own thoughts and emotion. Which was why she found herself out on her lonesome.

Thoughts of Henry and life and her power all mixed incongruously in her head with each step. How would Henry react; doubly so when she reveled she had found a fellow heart in the notorious thief? Would they not take her away?

Striding effortlessly through a barren Birchwood glade the witch let in a deep breath. Her lungs burned with the frigid air but thrilled through her veins with an energizing vigor. Reigning in her emotions of fiery vengeance she settled herself. Like Robin always encouraged, things would be aright if only she believe-

Abruptly noise clambered dissonantly though the dry brush to her left. Dead vines and barren brambles snapped in a disjointed chorus invariably shattering her hopeful contemplations.

Snapping out an arrow the witch turned to the noise as her mind whirled to focus on the thing that approached. While Robin was slowly teaching her forgiveness and love he had not fallen lax on his other lessons of forestry as well.

In an instant a large wolf burst out of the gray and brown bramble like a 500 pound flash of death. The muscled beasts fur was sleek black with a hint of gray on the ends and knotted with burs and thorns. Blood leeched from each paw as though the creature had run forever and the silvery claws dug and flexed into the earth to keep the creature aright..

The large, pristine alabaster fangs in the incredible maw glistened with salver and the entire creature heaved so that steam billowed like light smoke from the muzzle. All the beast was a sweaty mass that chilled in the wind.

In the moment the witch could have shot, but looking into the golden eyes of the creature she saw not a primal beast but a human.

"Ruby?" Regina muttered the vague name. There was only one wolf girl she knew by associate of Snow White.

The word, like magic itself, affected the huge beast with a spells power. Breath slowing the beast woman began to turn. He body mutated right before Regina's eyes. Bones cracked and reshaped, fur transmuted to pale human skin. In and instant only a girl in red stood before the deposed queen with no wolf in sight.

Fatigued the beyond all measure the wolf woman staggered unsteadily on her feet. Her entire body tottered and her long legs shook like newborns. Blood and dust and dirt liberally adorned her body as though she had been in a gruesome war. "Regina!" Ruby heaved breathlessly in a cry half strung with relief.

Eyes wild with terror, she clambered desperately towards the deposed queen. Exhausted beyond all measure the lupine woman fell in a quaking heap at Regina's feet. Half deliriously, half hysterical she mumbled off a string of near unintelligible words.

Kneeling unto the hard earth, the witch examined the lupine female. Clear tracks of dried tears stained her dirt encrusted face. Dried blood clotted and gummed a vermilion patch to the right side of her sleek sable hair.

Disjointed words stemmed nonsensically from her lips in an endless track. Her hands flinched as though she were still loping through the woods in search of whatever she had been on the track off.

"Ruby." Grabbing her by the shoulders, Regina shook the woman. "Ruby!" Seeping her magic into the woman the witch prodded her magic to stitch minor wounds upon the woman.

As the power leeched into her, slowly the scarlet wolf began to breathe slower. His body slowed the rapid inhalation as the magic worked to restore her.

Eyes fluttered rapidly she finally managed to open her golden orbs and steady upon the witch. "Regina," she gulped down breath greedily. "By the Alpha himself thank heaven I've found you!" the exotic female gasped. With sudden ferocity the woman grabbed Regina's shoulder so she could sit up. "You have to help us Regina."

Mind awhirl the exile stared over the wolf-woman. Why had she come to find her and why did she sound so implacably desperate?

"What's happened?" she demanded hastily. Worry shimmered faintly in her eyes. "Is Henry alright?"

Whatever the woman would say Henry was her first concern of that there was no doubt. Everything else could wait until she knew what the status of her precious son entailed.

Nodding deliriously Ruby slowed her heavy breathing. "He's… he's better than most. At least he's not hurt or dead."

"What's going on?" Her umber orbs searched the woman for the ills that she had run from.

Foggy delirious began to swamp Ruby's face again. "We… we killed so many of them but they kept coming," a strangled sob direly escaped Ruby's lips. Hot tears pricked her honey eyes but she shut her golden orbs tight. "Snow… Snow told me to abandon my post. She told me to track you… to find you… we…we…." Her voice shattered into a pitiful wracking sob of terror.

Body heaving the wolf-woman sobbed helplessly against Regina. Her hands dug tight into the fabric of the woodsman garb like daggers to keep her there after her long, hard run. She had been pushed beyond exhaustion. She was on the border of utter hysteria, her mind frayed from sleeplessness and the will to simply put one paw before the other.

Staring down at the normally biting, exotic woman, a hint of disparity surfaced from Regina's heart. Utter panic welled direly in her coppery orbs with every tear the woman shed. Her eyes searched the weeping wolf-woman for any shred of deceit but found none. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

"We can't piece this together here," Regina stated hastily in some manner of calm. "Can you stand?"

Nodding between sobs the wolf-woman gasped what sounded like a yes but with her weeping there was no telling what came from her lips.

Frowning grimly, the witch hooked an arm under the woman's armpits. "Alright. Stand up. You've found me. I'll take you to a safe place where we can figure this out," she explained magnanimously.

Unsteadily, with the witches help, Ruby found her feet. Her legs wobbled perilously, threatening to abandon her weight again as she stood. Heavily leaning on the deposed queen she staggered as her knees buckled.

Stalwartly gritting her teeth, the witch forced magic to swirl about them. Focusing on the center of camp she pictured the bonfire and her usual place to the side of the pit. With a firm will she ordered her magic to power her vision.

As she closed her eyes and cold wisps of magic flared about them. Struggling to hold Ruby and dictate the spell she all but toppled with the wolf-woman as they found themselves in the midst of camp.

"Regina?" Alarm and confusion inordinately hemmed Robin Hood's lips as she appeared in camp.

Scrambling up from his stump by the fire, the archer grabbed the whimpering Ruby as she as about to fall. Holding her up, the bandit flashed an urgent gaze to his love. Out of everything he had thought Regina would bring back, even nothing, he had not expected another soul. How had she come to bring a strange woman in their midst and where had she hailed in the first place?

A soft breath whispered from Regina's lips in a plume of milky white. "This is Ruby. She was sent to find me." Worry ubiquitously tarnished her pale features, her mouth a grim line. From what I gathered Snow White sent her." She shot an intrepid glance to the wolf-woman.

"For what purpose?" Intrepid suspicion the bandit could not stifle filled his voice as he helped the woman over to the fire.

Worry flickered like a guttering flame in the back of his mind alighting a cavern of concern he had thought lost. Were Regina's prophetic words coming true from the first time she had discovered her magic again? Had they somehow found out she had magic and the woman was a scout to plumb how much power Regina had regained?

Instantly the archer shook the thought away. Venomous scolding at himself snapped in his head with one look at the desperate, ragged woman. The thought made no sense. No one in their right mind would dare try to come alone and in such bedraggled shape to subdue and incarcerate Regina with magic unless they had a death wish.

Spreading out a green, bundled cloak on the cold forest floor, Regina helped the thief guide the woman down. Once more kneeling beside the female, she loomed over the fatigued Ruby.

"Robin, brew some tea," the witch ordered hastily with a look to the fire. "See if we have anything that will calm her nerves." Tone softening she turned her attention back to the weeping woman. "Relax Ruby, you're safe. You need rest."

Viciously the wolf-woman tossed her head. "No!" she rebuffed, her breath frantic but hollow in her exhausted state. "I can't rest yet… I need to tell you…."

"You have a gash in your head and can barely stand," Regina refuted testily. "You need rest."

Ruby was adamant. "No time… no time," she stammered weakly, her words a dry whisper. "She might already have won."

"Who?" the witch queried tensely.

Closing her eyes the wolf-woman muttered half in exhausted deliriousness. "We thought… we thought trouble would come from the east…. She came from the west."

~8~8~

A ruby smile pulled smugly over Zelena's face as she stared at the dilapidated ruin that had been Regina's once fine castle. Dark obsidian pillars lay tumbled upon their sides in the destruction that was the Evil Queen's ominous keep. Silver struts and spikes rusted and tarnished in the rubble heaps that remained all that was left of the once ostentatious castle. Glass of red and black and green and gold lay un-glinting under dirt or speckled with the faint rays of day from their broken pains like old, jagged teeth.

Dark green ivy roamed and clustered over the ruin that was the castle in a lattice of greenery. Weeds jutted up and tangled in an impossible ravel over the rocks and stone that once housed such abject misery and fear.

Little by little the realm was taking back the blighted keep.

And that, Zelena noted inwardly, could not be allowed.

"I'll give one thing to my sister," the green skinned witch began thoughtfully, her eyes pinioned to the keep. "She did pick a lovely spot to build a threatening fortress." Casting an askance glance to her right, a mocking laugh rumbled through her throat. "Wouldn't you agree, Rumpel?"

Face devoid of all emotion, the fiend looked forward to the ruined palace. "Indeed she did," he agreed insipidly, his voice bereft of his normal impish trill.

"I'm glad you think so." Lifting the silver kris regally, the green witch pointed the tip to the dilapidated, destroyed fortress. "Now rebuild this place," she ordered imperiously. "I grow tired of your dreadful, cluttered stronghold. The Dark Castle doesn't suit my tastes in the slightest. I will have this one as my own." Her mouth formed into a ruby slice as her eyes sparkled greedily in imminent avarice. "Finally, a suitable place for a queen to rule."

A hateful scoff filtered lightly from the Dark One. His lips partially curved into an inscrutable smile of implacable dissent. "You'll never be a true queen. Your sister dominates in every aspect. You." His lips twisted in a cruel smirk. "You will always be left in Regina's shadow."

"Regina is a thing of the past," sharply snapped the sorceress. "She has nothing. She is nothing. And very soon," she smirked, "I will finish what she started one kingdom at a time."

~8~8~

Concern unequivocally etched Regina's pallid face as she stared into the fire. Wooden mug in her grip, the witch turned the tankard thoughtfully in her hands. Warm steam curled from the hot liquid that rippled inside. The left over tea had been to calm her nerves, but the herbs had no effect upon her strung out thoughts.

The haunted look upon Ruby's face stayed scrawled in the very forefront of her mind. Even with the woman a little ways away she could picture the trepidation and urgency in her eyes.

Closing her russet orbs the witch inhaled a deep breath. The rich scents of dried tea from blackberry leaves swirled about her in a pleasant aroma upon the chill afternoon breeze. The scents took her to a better time. A time picking berries with Roland and Robin before she ever expected to see anyone she had tried to murder from her old life.

"So how're you holding up?" Robin inquired concernedly as he walked to the left of her. Squatting beside her the archer smiled wanly at his love.

A faint smile quirked upon her lips before dying away. Low sigh fleeing her mouth she shrugged and kept her eyes to the warm tea. "I'm trying Robin," she admitted stalwartly to her True Love. A shiver rankled through her voice as she breathed deeply. "I just want to get my thoughts straight before I dive into this."

Now that Ruby had rested a bit she was near bursting to tell her tale. Only by her sheer exhaustion was she able to keep quiet and even then a look of frenzy like a chained beast darted about her golden eyes.

"You won't go into this alone." Robin placed a hand on her knee comfortingly and squeezed. "I'll be there right beside you.

No matter what would come he would stick by her side. Whatever words fell from the strange woman's mouth they would decipher the as one. Just because someone from her past arose did not mean he would lead her out on her own.

A half relived smile crept intrepidly to Regina's mouth. "I know you will, Robin." She placed a cup warmed hand over his. "And I think I will need your presence more than ever."

Leaning up, the archer pressed his lips upon hers in a chaste kiss that told all his inexplicable ardor. Pulling away, he smiled gently in encouragement. "Whenever you're ready."

"Now's the time." Nodded the queen in stoic bravery. Placing her cup down on the leaf riddled ground she rose along with the thief. Calling her noble regality to her heart the witch marched over to the fatigued Ruby.

Abysmal tiredness swathed her face in jagged morose as she stared into the bickering flames. A haunted aura gleamed white in the midst of her tawny gaze near unblinking as she stared at the leaping flames. "Are you ready, Regina?" she queried but the words came out more akin to already knowing.

Breathing deep, the witch eased down across the low fire from wolf-woman. Hard intensity flashed like diamond in her eyes. Lips a grim line she spoke quietly. "Tell me what brought you here."

Haunted eyes pinioned to the dancing flames the wolf-woman raked a trembling hand through her tangled ebony locks. "It happened three months ago," she began hesitantly. "Everything was running smoothly. Hook and Emma had just said their vows not an hour before and everyone was in the ballroom in their reception. Then… someone… Henry I think looked out the windows and saw a dark mass. Others caught eye of the thing as well and everyone was hoarded about the windows. We all wondered what it was. It wasn't a cloud it moved too fast for that and then…." She shivered violently, her honey eyes vacant of the moment in which she found herself but delved into another. "Then they appeared. Hordes of flying monkeys."

"Monkey's?" Regina echoed uncertainly.

Ruby nodded numbly. "Horrible creatures. These monkeys they crashed through the windows and starting killing aimlessly. It was a slaughter of nobles who had never picked up a blade in their lives. David managed to rally the dwarves and guards and Emma and Hook fought like wild beasts but there were too many. It looked like we'd all be slain but the monkeys retreated." A mirthless, dry laugh escaped her chapped lips. "That was the first of many battles we have fought since. A powerful witch is controlling the army of monkeys and constantly tries to destroy us. Aurora and Philip's kingdom has already fallen and I don't know what's happening with Eric and Ariel. No one has heard from them in months now. In the last harsh battle we fought Snow sent me away. She said I had to find you. Maybe you would know how to defeat the witch."

Abruptly the wolf-woman stammered to a halt. Tears pricked her eyes once more as she looked up to Regina. "I didn't want to leave my post but Snow said I had to find you. I had too. The monkeys were already climbing over the walls and there were so many dead. Snow had run out of arrows and Emma was wounded and I don't know where David was. She told me I had to find you. I had too. That was two weeks ago."

"Two weeks?" the audacious thief interposed in surprise. "The journey from that realm to this takes a month at least."

Ruby blotted her tears with the curb of her hand. "I couldn't stop. I couldn't. Not until I found Regina. I tracked her when I reached the southern woods."

"She a lycanthrope," Regina explained off handedly to fill in her love's confusion. "That's how she got here so fast."

The wolf-woman sputtered a low cry. "Not fast enough! Every moment that passes this witch could be executing everyone!"

Getting to her feet, Regina turned away from the messenger. Fingertips perched agitating upon her temple, she frowned direly. "How did those love struck idiots let this happen? They knew there was trouble in the east. How did they let their watch grow lax?"

That wasn't like Snow and her husband, Regina knew perceptively. And especially not like Emma Swan the woman who couldn't let a bug slip by unnoticed. Rumpelstiltskin was another problem. Where was he in all this?

"The guard wasn't lax," Ruby defended insipidly, her normal vigor shattered and cowed. "When the dark cloud arose in the east every eye was turned there for trouble. The monkeys however flew in from the west. Everyone was so sure something would happen in the east they let anything else slip their minds in worry. The dark cloud is gone. It was a ruse to turn all our attention away from the real trouble."

Turning back towards the wolf-woman Regina tossed her head slightly. "No it wasn't a ruse. An ogre managed to make its way into the woods here. Maybe the witch is gathering an ogre army," she mused aloud.

"If the cloud was in the east and an ogre is here perhaps the brute knows something we don't," Robin suggested thoughtfully with a look to Regina. A faint smile wrested upon his lips. "I told you killing the thing would avail us nothing."

"That's all well and good but we need to start out, Regina. It's a long walk back," Ruby announced urgently. She was sent to fetch Regina and blast it all if she had to drag the exile back she would!

The former monarch flicked a hand the woman's way. "Maybe you were to delirious to note how you got here, wolf," Regina spat Icily. " I didn't put you over my shoulder and sprint here. I have my magic back. I can get us there faster than you can run. We'll deal with the ogre first and then we'll plot out our next course against this witch."

"Magic?" Ruby eyed the woman incredulously. "If that's the case then we don't have a moment to spare."

A venomous chuckle huffed mirthlessly from the witch's mouth. "You must think the woodlands have dulled my senses. I'm not just going to run into a battle with no knowledge as to who I'll be turning into a pile of ash."

Staggering to her feet the golden eyes woman glared fearlessly into Regina's hard eyes. "So you want to go ask an ogre easy as you please as to what's the juiciest gossip on a witch that is on a slaughtering spree?"

"My dear you seem to have forgotten who I am." A cold smile perched minutely upon Regina's mouth. "I do not ask. I take. This will be quick I promise."

"Regina," Robin spoke her name in a soft warning.

Looking over to the archer, her hard gaze softened a bit. "I won't harm the thing, I swear."

Satisfied, the thief nodded. "Alright. You and er… Ruby go see what the ogre knows. I'll need to gather the lads to speak of this situation and how we can help."

"I'll be back soon," the witch promised with a faint smile. Before he could reply In kind the exile gripped the magic. Picturing the place with the ogre she teleported Ruby and herself there.

The place the ogre called its prison was not a far from the spot she had found magic again. In fact, the ogre stood not three feet where it had fallen before.

Heavy, dark iron chains coiled about the titanic ogre's frame. Manacles as thick as knight's shields heavily shackled the brute's wrists and ankles to drag them low so that the monster looked akin to some simian. Long bands of iron two men would have trouble lifting went deep into the ground like metal roots to keep the ogre pinned to the confines of the forest prison. Beyond that a large, heavy iron collar wrapped about the creatures bulbous neck with a chain that allowed the monster to go not five steps in either direction.

A furious roar bellowed from the creature's thin lips as the one eye spied them. Scrambling to its feet, the creature swung a heavily shackled hand their way. Chain rattled sonorously through the air in tandem to the roar but became taunt as the swing got halfway.

Too far away to be harmed by the titanic swat, the gust from the blow barely tickled their faces.

A victorious smirk donned Regina's pursed lips as Ruby danced away from the monster. The beast couldn't hurt them. Not with all the magical enchantments she had laid upon the chains.

Flickering her eyes to Regina, immense trepidation scored Ruby's face. "How long have you had sunshine here?"

"A few moths now as we deliberate the brutes fate. I've keeping it here. Feeding it." Regina motioned flippantly to the chained beast. "Robin says we shouldn't kill him. A lesson in forgiveness he says."

Truly that was the only lesson for she would have gladly made the thing writhe in torment for trying to eat her love and his son.

Eying the brute, a look of disgust twisted the wolf-woman's lips. "Looks like he needs a lesson or two in that. By the way it's trying to get at you I don't think you'll be able to just have a nice quiet chat."

"I don't plan on communicating with the brute," Regina explained wryly. Regally the witch waved a magic laden hand towards the creature. On command, a purple shroud of mist descended about the beast. Noxious purple vapors wafted tenaciously about the creatures head like a swarm of mosquitoes.

Precariously the creature wobbled as though the mist was like some for of Cloraphorm. Slowly the creature sank to its knees. Little divots rose in the earth at the action as the creature fell limply to its right side. The one hellish eye fluttered weakly as its muscles stilled with the numbing magic.

"Now." Regina marched forward and knelt before the ogres face. "Let's see what you've been through."

Talking would have availed them nothing, the witch knew imperatively. A simple spell to delve into the brain would have to suffice and on a whole was much easier to translate that ogre speak.

Placing her hand upon the ogres ridged brow she focused her magic to pluck the creatures mind. Memories swarmed in her head like flashes of blurred light as she saw exactly what the ogre had seen through all its days. Steadying her own mind, the witch brought the images into focus. There was a whirl of green and a cry and….

Abruptly the witch reeled back. Scrambling to her feet she backed away as though the ogre was pure poison. Now that she hadn't expected.

Alarmed Ruby took a step forward. "Did you find something?" she asked tenuously, her eyes flickering from witch to monster.

Awed, Regina took a step back. "Not just something," the witch stated in surprise, her eyes pinned upon the ogre. "Someone." Waving her hand over the creature she forced magic to her call. A large miasma of magic covered the brutish ogre in an opaque film of lilac. A tangle of green smoke spewed from the midst of the purple as though battling with one another. In an instant both smokes shredded away revealing not an ogre, but the slim, lovely figure of Belle.

"By the Alpha himself," Ruby gasped, "Belle?"

Gasping and sputtering the naked, scarred woman looked up. The veil of her rich chestnut hair half adumbrated her face. Her eyes shimmered with tear behind the screen of her hair. "Finally," she stammered in her exotic voice.

"What happened?" Ruby asked as both women closed in to the disenchanted Belle. Wipping her red cloak off she wrapped the fabric over the naked beauty.

Grasping at cloak with trembling hands, Belle tucked her head to her chest. "Rumpel... he's been captured by Zelena. The wicked witch of the west."

"Captured?" Regina echoed hollowly. Paleness blanched her face at the very thought. That wasn't good. Not by any stretch of the imagination. To be truly captured one had to procure his….

Looking up to Regina, Ruby placed a protective arm across her friend. "Let's get her back to your boyfriend's camp."

The witch's russet eyes puckered a bit at the comment but the time was not right in the least to go into such a minor slight. "You're right." She waved her magic about them all.

In an instant they stood in the center of camp.

Belle staggered shakily upon her own two feet, her knees knocking tremulously as she regained herself.

"Regina I was starting to get worried." Robin raced up to the three. He paused at the familiar face, his eyes blinking in shock. "Belle?"

How had she gotten there?

"Our ogre." Regina led her to a place by the fire.

Robin turned his face sharply to his love, his features traced in abject confusion. "What?"

"A witch turned me into an ogre," Belle explained with a brave voice. "She would have done much worse had Rumpel not traded his freedom for my life."

Concern knit Regina's face in near imperceptible lines. "His dagger?" she breathed warily. She had hoped some other form of magic could have been his undoing. Anything other than the dagger would have been a welcome to know. Before the woman could respond, she waved a hand to silence her. "Wait. Start at the beginning. Let's get all this out now."

Fingers curled over the sides of the scarlet cloak, Belle nodded in compliance to the witch's wisdom. Despite getting acclimated to a human form again, her love was in peril. "I was awaiting Rumpel's return from letting you see Henry when this green witch, Zelena arrived in the castle. She captured me and waited for Rumpelstiltskin to get home. When he did she threatened to end my life if she did not get his dagger."

Tenaciously, the tormented beauty shook her head and bit back tears. "I told him not to. She had no honor she would kill me anyway. He gave the kris to her nevertheless in hopes she would keep her word. A few days later after she bored of playing mind games with us and taking everything we knew about this world from our heads, she locked him up and then turned me into an ogre all the while making him think she killed me. She said she wouldn't kill me personally but anyone who saw an ogre running abut would." She scrubbed a hand through her silky auburn hair, her face knit in ponderous unknowing. "When she turned me, my head was cloudy, so foggy. I barely remembered who I was, but… the last person who was on my mind stuck clear. You, Regina. Even in my utter confusion I knew I had to find you. I had too. Somehow I managed to live. I made my way here. Maybe Rumpel placed some compulsion on me to find you, but I did."

"And nearly killed a grown man and small child in the process," Regina declared icily to the recovered Belle. Though she was once more in her right mind and body the fact remained that she had tried to kill her love and her love's son.

Woe shuddered through the beauty like a lance of bitterest ice. Regret sparkled in her eyes as they sough Regina's. "I didn't mean too. The ogre that I was took control. I barely knew who I was." The ogre in her had been starving. Despite all he best efforts she couldn't have reigned the beast in.

"Forgiven and forgotten," Robin interposed generously. Flashing a glance at Regina in a silent plea to forgive as well, he once more turned to the beauty. "As you said you were not in your right mind. No one can blame you for what happened."

"No," Regina agreed and sat down on the other side of the fire. "We need to blame this witch." She motioned in light frustration with her hand. "This… this…."

"Zelena," Belle supplied again. "She calls herself the wicked witch of the west." Inhaling a cold breath, the beauty nodded as though coming to some inward decisions. "And your sister."

Dark confusion wrinkled over Regina's face, her eyes narrowing faintly. "Sister?" the word fell venomously. "Impossible." She scoffed impudently. "I don't have a sister this witch is obviously not only a mad woman but a liar as well."

"You don't understand," Belle refuted painfully. "Rumpel knew this woman. He knew her past. He may not be all good but he doesn't lie to me. Not anymore. He told me plainly that first night we were in the dungeon that Zelena is your half sister on your mother's side."

A scoff erupted from Regina's incredulously screwed lips. "Impossible. This witch must be very duplicitous in order to fool the Dark One. I don't have a sister."

"Are you certain?" Robin broached cautiously.

Incensed the witch turned her head sharply to her left. Her cool gaze flashed with angered annoyance at his impertinent refusal to take her word. "Positive," she announced coolly and turned back to Belle. "My mother certainly would have mentioned that little tidbit to me."

"Well if she isn't then who is she?" Belle chose not to argue the matter with the witch. If she wanted to lie to herself that Rumpel could be mistaken, which he never was, was her own peril.

Slapping her hands on her knees, the witch slowly rose. Her gaze loomed over Belle from the other side of the fire casting her rich umber eyes into coppery pools. "That doesn't matter. What does matter is that I get this witch's life for what she has done." She turned to Ruby. "Once Belle tells us all she knows I'll come back with you. With any luck we can find away to defeat this Wicked Witch."

"And we'll be coming with you." Robin smiled thinly. "All of us."

"Out of the question," Regina snapped immediately. Her eyes found the archer at her side. "Your place is in the forest taking care of Roland. The realm of the Charming's in this state are not for a small boy."

How could she concentrate on the matter at hand if in the back of her mind she endlessly thought of Roland and Robin in the thick of things. If what Ruby said was true there would be swooping simians or something and a witch who controlled the Dark One to boot!

The thief arched a brow. "We're woodsman's remember. We'll be fine. Besides I can't let you go alone. You might need a thief."

"What I don't need is for you to be a causality of war," she returned in a low snarl. Her index finger pressed accusingly against his tunic. "I have magic. You do not."

He flashed a roguish grin. "Well that's never stopped me before." Shrugging indolently, he crossed his arms. "Whether you like it or not I'm coming. I still owe you a debt for I and my son's life. Consider me your protector, Regina." Before she could refute him, he pecked a kiss upon her lips. "Don't try to argue with me, you know you'll lose," he jested and ducked away.

Blinking at his audacity, the witch followed her love as he went about to prepare his camp for the move. As he trailed further and further out, her eyes drifted down to Ruby and Belle.

Both stared incredulously at her then slowly turned their gazes to one another in a silent conversation. Things certainly had changed with Regina. A great many things.

Glaring murder at them both the witch stared at them like they were conspirators. "Oh don't give me that look. Like I can't have my fancies and whims," she implied to deny her affections for the archer. The last thing they needed was to think she actually had a heart bursting for the thief.

"Mama, Paw paw says we're leaving camp!" Roland raced up excitedly to Regina. As the months passed he had taken to calling her such and no one had disputed him otherwise.

Before Regina could speak a word the boy trundled off after his father already on the other edge of camp.

Without looking at what had to be the pairs stunned faces the witch pinioned her eyes to another portion of camp. That had been one denial that had lasted all but a minute.

"Shut up," she spat caustically before she marched off to prepare to help those that had once banished her.


	17. Regina's Return

_ A/N: The chaps have been erratic as of late because I had strep throat all this week. I'm feeling better now so we should be back on track!_

**~8~8~**

Utter exhaustion shuddered plaintively through Snow White's body in wracking pangs of agony as she lumbered betwixt the rows of injured lying on what had once been the pristine marble floor of her court. A heavy bucket of water hung in her left hand as she slogged through the endless beds of agony sewed by injury. Pain and helplessness shrouded her haggard, pale face in a terrible pall of worry with each tired step she took along the columned rows. Awash in misery she seemed akin to a pallid phantom that drifted along the halls of the dead.

The cream colored marble that once glowed in the afternoon sun through the gold stained glass and wide doors at the end of the hall was awash with slick splotches of blood and black grime and was all but transformed into an infirmary for those who were just trying to keep life and limb cobbled together

Brittle cries and low moans from the wounded and dying rose up in a mournful dirge of hurt that swirled in an eerie symphony to the domed ceiling. Men and women swathed with ichors stained bandages of every color writhed and wept whilst some lay peculiarly still. The scent of death, disease, unwashed bodies, the repugnant odor of rotting flesh, and copious amount of dried crimson essence wafted about the stifling air in a noxious aroma of dire mortality.

Months ago the smell would have made the queen of the realms gag or empty her stomach. Now, she could eat an entire meal ravenously not one room away. Now she could hear their cries and not break down and weep herself, though inwardly her heart wailed.

A forlorn sigh quietly stole from Snow's lips as she bent down to a wounded fighter just as she had all day to others. The soul before her was a beanpole of a man with light caramel skin. A bloody stump that ended grotesquely at the knee was wrapped in an ichorous laden bandage where his right leg had been. Laying on a thin pile of straw and a worn rag, his body was swamped in fever that made him constantly quake.

The amputation hadn't taken him to the realm of death, but the infection that coursed through his body probably would in a day or so.

Taking a now burgundy stained cloth from the blood tinged water in her bucket, Snow twisted the cloth and wrung forth much of the blood back into the container. A look of dour dissatisfaction roamed her face but she shoved the emotion away. So little the gesture was in such a terrible state but a simple rag and water would have to do.

In and out of consciousness, the injured warrior lay like most of them in a semi-delirious state. Fever burned his brow to an almost scalding touch. Sweat beaded and trickled from his wiry body and the bandages that swaddled him were damp with sweat, blood, and heaven knew what else.

Gently dabbing the edge of the haggard man's forehead she sought to give him a bit of relief from his suffering. The fairies were doing all they could to heal the most grievously wounded but the dust was scarce and most was needed for battling the monkeys that swooped upon them.

Face wrenched with agony, the warrior's features eased into a disturbed tranquility as the cool water kissed his skin.

A faint smile ghosted insipidly upon Snow's mouth. "I hope this will make you feel a bit better. May this relieve your suffering in some way," she offered gently, her words almost like a whispered prayer.

"You should get some rest," an exotic voice declared softly from behind the attending queen.

Flying low from her post high above, Tinkerbell kept a conservative distance away from the toiling monarch. Hovering behind the woman she looked out sorrowfully as the queen attended those in their final hours. Depleted silver wand in her left hand, she clutched the rod desperately as though a spare granule of magic could be found to relieve another's misery.

Nary pausing in her ministrations, the pale monarch shook her head. "I can't, Tink. I need to relive what little I can for them," she refuted quietly, her voice plaintive.

If she could send them into battle then the least she could do was be with them in their final hours. She could at least attest that their service was not in vain, that their suffering was not for naught.

"You fought those flying aberrations for two hours, Snow," Tink pointed out, her voice on the cusp of desperation. "Then you came directly here. That was four days ago. You haven't had a rest since."

She had been a whirlwind of activity, fetching and bringing and tending to those who found themselves caught by the jagged talons or fangs of the monkey's.

Morose stubbornness marbled Snow's disturbed face. "Neither have my people. Most are in far worse condition than I," the queen refuted unequivocally to stave away the abject exhaustion in her soft timbre. Though she had suffered a few gashes on her face and arms and legs they were nothing compared to some of the wounds. "Besides," she added in a glum sigh. "We'll all rest when we're dead."

That was what everything was leading to anyway, the hopelessness in her heart whispered venomously with every moment, defeat and death. With the way their mystical attacker's forces fought their pathetic standoff would be erased in a matter of days.

"Don't talk like that," Tinkerbell scolded though her words seemed fragile as glass in themselves. Clasping her hands together, she pressed them to her chest as though to keep what little hope she had left in her heart. "Regina will come and she will help us defeat this threat. If we have lost the Dark One then Regina is the next to know how such dark magic's work and how we can best defeat them."

Though she may not have possessed magic any longer there was far more to the craft than simply having the power. The intricacies of spell crafting were something no magical endowed soul could soon forgot.

A whispering, mirthless laugh dourly escaped Snow's frowning mouth. "You really believe she'll come still?" guilt fired through her voice, "After what we did to her?"

What reason would Regina have to come help them? Her enemies had banished her, sentenced her to a life of loneliness. Why would she care they were now under attack and duress? If anything, if she even knew, she was probably saving up energy to dance on their graves.

"I know Regina." Tink fluttered like a timid jade moth towards the caring Snow and landed on her left shoulder. "Deep inside she is a good woman. When worse has come to worse has she ever been absent?" She patted the fairest of them all on her alabaster cheek. "Fear not, Regina will come. If for nothing else, she will come for her son."

Henry. An involuntary smile bloomed upon Snow's lips at the thought of her grandson. In the time of trail he had gone from a boy to a man, a warrior. He had laid waste to his fair share of monkey's himself. He seemed to have matured overnight in the ways of the world if not all in appearance.

Eying the ray of hope that gleamed through the queen, the fairy smiled encouragingly. "She would cross the entire realms to come to her son's aid. Now, don't worry. Go outside at least for a few moments and draw on that hope. Get some fresh air. Collect yourself," she urged tenderly.

"Thanks, Tink." Snow gently dabbed the fevered brow of the fighter once more. Once she finished patting the last of the sweat from his damp forehead, she laid the bloody rag on the edge of the bucket then stood.

Muscles screamed in her back as bones popped telling the tale of how long she had been at the chore of tending the wounded.

Languidly pumping her iridescent jade wings the fae fluttered off her shoulder. With a terse nod the green fairy shook her wings and a green glow pulsed over her as she used her magic to change. Growing into a human's size, she flashed a warm grin to the fatigued woman. "Here." She tucked her wand away like a sword to the left side of her hip and knelt down serenely. "I'll take over until you get back."

Gratefulness dashed across Snow's face in a wave of thanks. A reprieve was not something that often came her way now with the war. Perhaps a few minutes rest would do her good, she deiced inwardly as she walked to the balcony across the court.

Flanked by two stone lions rampant on their hind legs, the balcony stood as a nice little getaway on the south side of the court. Brass rods above two wide doors sat barren of any fabric leaving the portal like a barren maw. Everything that could be used as bandaging had gone to that endeavor with a hasty fervor, starting with much of the linen in the castle.

Easily slipping unnoticed out unto the balcony, Snow gratefully breathed in the frigid air. Cold wind burned down her throat but she accepted the little pain with the crisp wind. The fresh air was worth leaving out of the stench of death and suffering. Playful wind brushed her sable hair away from her pale cheeks as she stepped out further unto the balcony.

Closing her eyes tight, she curled her fingers over the intricately carved granite railing for support. The calluses on her fingers from drawing her bow in so many instances in so little time dug deep into the hard stone as though to keep her from simply breaking down into a torrent of tears.

Silence encompassed her as she let her troubled thoughts press against her heart just as the wind pressed against her face.

Her men were dying too fast, David was wounded in his leg rending him nearly useless, the fairy dust was at an all time low, and to be honest who were they trying to fool with all the monkeys their assailant had at her command she could have wiped them out at day one. She was merely toying with them at this point. The way they were dying the witch could merely play "pick-off-the-stragglers" without putting a terrible dent in her hordes.

Hopelessness once more doused over Snow in an irrepressible deluge of sorrow and fear. Icy talons gripped her once brave heart in egregious trepidation and scored long marks of jagged insecurities down to her very soul.

Faster and faster her doubts assailed her mind. Was all their fighting in vain? Were they all destined to die? Her heart began to race as the thoughts whirled through her head.

Snapping her eyes open as though to come from a bad dream, she looked down to the forest line and the white bridge that led to the keep. A breath caught sharply in her throat as her bright eyes spied black dots along the sleepy forest fringe. The blots of darkness stayed clustered together in small pockets much like the monkeys had but they came on land and not on the winds of the west.

Patting her torn vest like she was on fire, Snow fumbled for items in her cuirass. Digging into an inside pocket she brought forth a gift given to her by Captain Hook. Bringing out the item she rolled an ornate spyglass in her grip. Crafted of burnished oak long scoured by the salty sea. the looking glass came to her hands like steel to a magnet. Hook had given the item as a gift to appease a mother and she had kept the item close with the new attacks.

Hurriedly, the sorrowed Snow snapped the glass open and peered down to spy the foe. Face pinched in worry as she stared out the glass, her lips pressed tight in a ready cry to gather the warriors that could rally.

In an instant a cry of invariable alarm nearly spewed past her lips before the cry turned into one of joy. Hope ballooned massively in her deflated heart surging her body with jubilation.

Despite her dubiousness there stood Regina striding as proud as ever to the castle!

~8~8~

A grim smile faintly etched Regina's lips as she broke from the clearing of the trees that were all too familiar. Pale white winter sun glowed insipidly behind a bank of ashen gray clouds, alighting the keep and all its lands in a despondent gray tint. The bite in the air foretold of snow not long in coming and a bitter season waiting to pounce upon the already ragged world.

The lands once fecundate with greenery and harvest stood barren and grooved with cold ruts of dirt and mud in the fields and the winding roads. Destruction lingered in a few fields with signs of battle and for a bustling realm nary a soul stirred.

Pausing at the edge of the dirt path that led to the white bridge, the witch's umber gaze roved over the castle in inspection. Not much had changed since last she had peered upon the keep. The white walls still stood though chunks of the barrier stood gaps in the fortification like knocked out teeth in a tavern brawl.

Black dots of armored warriors wearily slogged across the ramparts. What jubilation that once armored the keep was long dead and replaced by worry from haggard souls. The attacks had changed the once wondrous display of the keep, transmuting the palace into a dingy stain of off white entrenched in despair.

"This place is bigger than anything we had in Nottingham," Robin commented thoughtfully as he sidled to the left beside his love. Impressment openly traced his features and slipped with every vapor from his breath whilst he gazed at the keep even with the signs of war that adorned the palace.

To think that the women he had taken in and taught the ways of the forest had once single-handedly ruled such a place was incredible.

A small huff of disdain fled Regina's smirking mouth. "Trust me; this place isn't all it's cracked up to be." Her smirk fell into morose as memories in the keep married to Leopold surfaced like long forgotten ghosts in her mind. "I hated this place so much," she breathed lugubriously. Before the thief could reply, she faintly tossed her head to shake away the foul recollection. "But none of that now. Come, we need to be walking more and sightseeing less."

The more time they spent caught between forest and castle the more time they left themselves vulnerable to attack. Certainly when they reached the middle of the bridge they would be in prime place for an assault. With Roland with them that was not an option.

Eyes perpetually in observation, the deposed queen strode at an even pace across the bridge. Consternation wrinkled her near flawless face, her visage an open tome for the troubles that marred her dark heart.

"Something wrong, Regina?" Robin queried softly from her left and turned to spy out the giveaways of her lovely face he had come to know so well.

A contemplative frown pulled insipidly upon her lush lips. "The way Ruby told things I was expecting something horrendous," she admitted flatly. "I can see they've taken a battering but I was prepared for…," she paused trying to grasp the particular word that would not come off so vile.

"Complete ruin?" Robin supplied assiduously. Disapproval hinted his voice as the words left his mouth. She was trying to soften her words but that was her general thought, her wish.

Bright anger glowed upon her face before she suppressed the emotion with a stern countenance. Truth be told, she had been waiting to see the damage. She wanted to gaze upon the towers tumbled down upon their stone sides in ruin. She wanted to see gaping holes in the glorious spire and the pennants sloshed with mud and blood. Complete destitution was what she craved so she could look down upon them as better off than they.

Flashing him an askance glance, she shrugged as they continued their trek to the gates. "Maybe so," she returned, unwilling to lie over just a small fancy. "I really wanted their desperation to feel sharp and painful."

"Do you remember that feeling you felt when people were glad you were brought so low?" His lips arched into a frown. "They were wrong and so are you. It's a wicked thing to be jubilant over others misfortune," Robin scolded lightly.

Mirthless wisps of laughter slid sensuously past her lips in a tendril of steam. "Not if they're the Charming's. You have no idea what this insufferable family has taken from me," she defended in a dry tone. Her timbre froze into icy shards of hate as thoughts of her life swooped back upon her mind. " You don't know what they've done to me."

From the moment she had saved Snow White from the runaway horse they had gotten in her way and destroyed her happiness. To not revel in their misfortune was not something so easily hurdled.

"Just remind yourself, Regina. Their misfortunes are your misfortunes." Robin slipped his rough hand into hers and squeezed comfortingly. "They are your family as well."

A quiet aura descended upon Regina for a moment at his words. She was family, wasn't she? Bound in two ways to the family that now housed themselves in the white castle? She was technically still Snow's step-mother and Henry was her adopted son. There's was a spider web that stitched them all together in ways many of them did not wish to be bound.

Oh but they had made their intentions plainly obvious when they had banished her. They did not want her in their little family. She was too evil, too broken, to bitter to be in the gleaming family with the noble Charming's. With her sentence they had taken the knife and snipped her from the line as far as they were concerned. Only Henry held the frayed thread that kept her dangling on.

"Aye they are family, so remind me again why we didn't just teleport into the castle for this little reunion," John grumbled to the pair, inadvertently snapping Regina out her dire morose of thought.

A rough grunt sailed from his lips as he tugged a cart with supplies and the tiny Roland behind him. Sleeping on a bundle of furs the boy was barely away of where they were and how they had gotten there in his sleep. Half the night he had been awake asking about the place there were headed and how his "mama" knew the two women that had appeared in camp out of the blue.

Lightly shaking her head the witch bit back a smile. "Because John if we did they would have probably filled us with arrow holes before we could take a step," Regina explained, her tone hinted with mirth she did not feel.

A chuckle fled Robin's mouth. "Either that or we face the risk of walking into enemy territory. We don't know who held the castle before we arrived. Ruby's journey was two weeks. A lot can change in that time."

"Lucky for us they still stand," Ruby assured a little ways from behind them.

Belle turned to look at her friend as they walked side by side. Given clothes from Regina, the beauty now donned a brown leather set of wear and a brown cloak instead of just Ruby's cape. "How can you be so sure?" She pulled her cloaks cowl from her head so that her chestnut curls cascaded out.

"I can smell them from here." The wolf-woman tilted her chin up a bit as though catching a whiff on the cold winds. "Snow, Emma, David.…"

"Henry?" Regina asked tentatively but did not look back.

A smile found Ruby's lips for the first time in what felt akin to months. "Right up ahead," she confirmed as they stopped at the large gates.

Built of ancient wood from some far off land, the gates, like the castle, were white. Gray iron straps studded with steel intermittently bound the wood and kept not a single foe from tearing down the massive double gates. Still, gates and walls not matter fastidiously built were no good to things that could fly.

Lifting her hands up, Regina called magic to her grip to open the gates. If they were to learn she had magic then perhaps a quick example would prove sending Ruby to find her had been right.

Abruptly the large gates began to creak open as she held up her hand. Ancient hinges protested in shrill squeaks as the doors opened but a crack.

"Mom!" Henry exclaimed happily as he slipped from inside the gates. A relived smile donned his lips as she rushed towards the woman not five steps away.

In the few months apart, with the fierce assault on the castle he had been tempered by the bellicose hammer of life. He seemed battle hardened, no more a simple hopeful youth. Combat had made him grow up a little faster, age a little quicker than a peaceful life.

A now well used blade hung from his hip and a few pieces of light armor hung over a loose gray tunic and black breeches. He seemed every inch a warrior despite for his young age.

Gone were the days of comic book reading, pizza roll eating, naive youngling. Here stood Henry the teenager, the fighter, and so much more.

Wrapping her arms tightly about her son, Regina clasped him in a motherly vice. Her cheek pressed against his own as she squeezed with all her power. "Henry, you're safe."

That had been her most pressing worry, but as long as he was alive and well then everything could move so much smoother. Heaven help the poor soul who would ever try to hurt her son.

"Yeah, I'm lucky I guess," he laughed nervously, and gripped her in a vice "I'm just glad you're here. I don't have to worry if that witch got to you. I don't know what I would do if she did."

Inordinately pleased by his concern, she disentangled herself from the reunion. No matter how long she wished to simply hold him and not let go now was not the time, she knew implicitly well; not with the potential for an attack.

Indelible smile plastered on his lips, the young knight scanned over the others who lingered behind. "Who're all these guys?" he queried curiously and looked from his mother to the rough looking, bearded men that stood behind them. Certainly he had been expecting to see Ruby but not a gaggle of wild men and… Belle?

"Yes." Regina placed a tendril of raven hair behind her ear then gestured to her love on her left. "This is Robin Hood and his merry men."

Awe shimmered openly in Henry's bright eyes at her revelation. Strafing his gaze over to the archer, his mouth hung open in unconceivable astonishment. "No way. You're Robin Hood? Really."

"Indeed I am," Robin divulged in a pleasant, mighty laugh. Holding out his hand, he pumped Henry's outstretched hand vigorously. "I must say I have wanted to meet you for a long time now, Henry. Your mother talks of you all the time."

Blinking rapidly, Henry looked from Robin to Regina, his face a mask of confusion. "Just how do you know my mom?"

"It's a… long story," Robin dogged expertly without a hint of bashful hesitation. "She's one of our band, though, which is why we are here. We never let one of our own fight their battles alone."

And never would he let her face her troubles alone.

"Now before we start a round of twenty questions right here at the gates, let's get everyone inside," Regina interposed impenitently before Henry could fire off another inquiry. He could be a curious boy at times always delving into more inquiries to plumb the mysteries depths. Besides, given that those depths included Robin and she as something more than just friends, the time was truly not favorable.

Nodding studiously, Henry adopted a stalwart face. "Right. Snow asked me to bring you up to the council chamber," he explained and turned away to head back into the keep.

"Very well," Regina replied with a smile. "Robin you tell the men to make themselves at home."

The thief nodded. "As you command. Just give me a moment and then I'll be right behind you."

"I wasn't asking you to come along," Regina bit out firmly as Henry walked away. "I though that much was obvious." She lagged behind at a creeping pace to bandy words with the bandit.

Though she would gladly have him wherever she chose to be, things had to be different now that they were in the land of the Charming's. This was not the Southern Wood and those that had banished her were not her friends. Here in the palace she had an image to uphold. She might be Regina to the band, but she was the Evil Queen to those who saw her in the castle. No one but Henry deserved her soft side in the palace; to everyone else she was no different than when she had departed.

Robin stifled that evil in her, but would that be the best thing for her at the moment?

"Which is all the more reason I need to tag along with you." A roguish smile appeared across his lips. He seemed to almost read her thoughts. "You haven't seen these people in months now. People you loathe. Just like me and a sack of unwatched gold, it's hard to resist some temptations and slipping into old habits."

A scowl spread across her luscious mouth at his cleverly worded accusation. "Do you think I'm really so weak that I would not even try to temper the evil inside me on first meeting with the Charming?" she asked wryly in affront.

Did he think she wouldn't try to be on her best behavior for the first meeting? Did he suspect all her progress had been for naught on the first go round with those that had banished her?

"You know I think you far from weak, Regina," the archer sighed indolently. "But you were the one disappointed you didn't come back to a demolished castle," he pointed out expertly, his voice never judgmental.

There was a point to be had there, she admitted inwardly with an outward grimace. That was one dream she had but that was how her vision had remained - only a dream.

Sighing tiredly, the witch turned fully to him as they paused in the courtyard. "I'll be fine Robin." She smiled weakly at him. "You keep a special eye out on Roland while we're here and when all of this is done we'll go back to the fringe of the forest beyond the bridge and wait there in safety for our next move."

Suspicion heavily donned the thief's visage as he stared at her. His eyes twinkled into her own under the insipid winter sky. "You're certain about going alone?" he asked quietly and took up her hands in his own.

"Positive," she lied with a warm grin. In more than one way she wasn't sure about going by herself but she didn't need her hand held dealing with the Charming's. On the contrary, she needed to once more flex her might.

Thoughts plainly whirled about in his russet eyes that detailed his dubiousness before he looked away. He didn't buy her words, but there was no way he could say he did not trust her. Never that. "Alright. If you think you can handle this. I put all faith into you, Regina."

"I knew you would." She quickly pecked a kiss to his lips.

Turning away from her love, she finally allowed a dark frown to pull upon her visage. Guilt sparked in her heart knowing she held his trust for naught, but there was nothing to do about that now. If he honestly thought she would not take the moment and maliciously savor their desperate plea for aide then he was only deluding himself.

Her steps were soft over the suspiciously dirty courtyard as she padded towards the door leading into the keep. The same gray film that covered the walls also covered the courtyard. The gray particles did not seem to be dirt but more akin to funeral ash more than anything.

A suspicious look marred Henry's face as he watched his mother prey closer to the doors that led inside from the rectangular, stone courtyard. There was no way he could have missed anything that had just gone on betwixt she and Robin… including the kiss.

"Ruby and Belle have already gone up," he stammered hesitantly as though just remembering his duties. Looking from mother to thief lingering the middle of the courtyard, he looked incredulous. "You and him are a…. thing?"

An involuntary smile adorned her face at his words. Even an allusion to their love could bring a smile to her face. "Long story, Henry. One Robin has time to tell. I can find my way through this place to the council room. You go make acquaintances."

"Really?" For a moment he was the same bubbly, curious child he had been before her curse had spiraled out of control. Eyes locked unto the archer, the man that now seemed to hold his mother's affection he nodded eagerly. "Okay. I will."

A clever smile weaseled upon her face as the boy rushed to meet the notorious archer. Relief shuddered through the witch in a sigh as all that stood before her was the dark threshold of the palace. That was another obstacle out the way.

Crossing the threshold into the cold, dark keep, the witch immediately called magic to her command to save herself an arduous trip. No doubt the wolf and the book worm had already told the Charming and their coterie what she had regained. Despite having come to their aide they weren't her allies and she was not theirs. They would sing all her secrets to them.

As the purple smoke clouded over her, in an instant she stood in the familiar council chamber. The place had been mostly cleared out save for the large table that sat forgotten behind the souls that stood there and off center of the room. Haggard, injured souls met her not ten steps away, clearly waiting for her arrival in such a fashion.

Silently observing them all with a cold gaze, the witch let her eyes rove over those that had once sentenced her.

They looked nothing like they had that day she had been banished. Their finery was replaced with bandages and their happiness with utmost distress and misery. Belle, Ruby, Snow, David, Emma, Hook, Jiminy, the blue fairy, Tinkerbell, and the dwarves all stood miserably in the spacious council chamber, each worse for wear since that day months ago.

A comfy blaze guttered and popped lowly in the fireplace in the corer of the room to beat back the chill on the frigid day. The windows in the room were all barren leaving the war torn land a clear tableau all about. A map sat dead center upon the round table behind them with markings of where enemies had swooped in.

Defeat and anger and sorrow held sway over the room like a heavy hand molesting their spirits. Blood soaked bandages donned at least one place on all their bodies and David rested on crutches with his right leg in a cast of tightly wrapped bandages.

"So it's true," Snow piped up first, her voice low and intrepid. "You do have magic again."

Lips perched into the only smile in the room the witch eyed them all imperiously. "Indeed," she proclaimed haughtily, her lips savoring every syllable.

She had magic now and they would remember just who she was.

"So there is hope then," David commented softly and changed the position of his crutches.

If Regina did in fact have magic perhaps she could stand toe to toe with their witch problem and wipe her out. With a little subtly they could perhaps get at her before she could use her now enthralled Dark One.

Vile laughter rolled sleekly from Regina's mouth like a dark cloud. "I wouldn't go so far as to say that. You still haven't bought me into this entire ordeal yet," she pointed out primly, her smirk never fading.

"But here you are," Emma deadpanned. Arms crossed and leaning against a cream colored pillar, she glared at the woman who once was mayor.

"Like I couldn't leave with a snap of my fingers Miss Swan… Jones… Hook." She waved her hand in agitation as though flinging the confusing thought from her mind. "Whatever you're calling yourself these days know this; your witch problem isn't the least of my concern. I was fine in the forest living out my banishment. I can do so again." Her infuriating smirk widened into a full fledged smile upon her mouth. "When Ruby told me what's been happening, I couldn't pass up this delicious moment to see you all like this."

Grumpy snorted nastily and looked about. "And probably to see what you could milk out of us," he grumbled sullenly and crossed her arms like a petulant brat.

"I am not the green imp," Regina shot back prissily to the surly dwarf. "My price, if I decide to help you will come after. You will give me what I demand without a shred of protest." Before any could reply she continued on in her very element. "And you will do so because you have no choice."

Because she had something they desperately needed, they were without recourse. They would do as she asked without a hint of complaint and hoped their futile efforts were enough.

David nodded slowly. "We understood that the moment we decided to send to you for aid. We agree to that if we survive," he didn't sound so hopeful. "Believe me, that's a big if," he voiced what they all were thinking.

"You forget sheep herder that once upon a time my power rivaled only second to Rumpelstiltskin's own. If she doesn't know I'm here this should be a quick, clean business," she reminded them astutely. "My magic is back in full so never doubt that I can't handle myself."

Pushing away from the marble column she leaned on, the princess glowered at the witch. "If that's settled, are you ready to help? We don't have time to stand here hammering out reasons and deals."

They needed a plan and fast. Zelena's tactics were always random and erratic. They needed to be prepared for any circumstance. The faster they drew out a plan to eradicate their problem without more bloodshed the better.

"Not just yet, Miss Swan," she claimed austerely, reverting back to the old name that seemed to fit the bail bondswoman. "There is one last thing."

Though she had tried to fight the claws of evil over her soul, the battle was a dire one. To have all those who sentenced her there, to feel their terror and that their hopes relied upon her was the sweetest wine intoxicating her sense. Too long had she dreamed of such a delectable opportunity against those that had slighted her. Too long had she pictured just such a moment in the many in her mind to simply do the right thing.

Though she might have wished for their castle to be swathed in ruin, what lay before her was more than just a dream come true. What lay before her was mellifluous revenge.

"You don't think just because there is an emergency here that I have forgotten what you all have done to me. You sent werewolf wonder over there to come fetch me and ask me for help and bring me back from the eternal exile you put upon my head. That is far from satisfactory," Regina explained smoothly. "I want to hear those same words she asked of me from all of you. I want to hear the words come from your mouths. I want to see your necks bent as you drown in your humiliation."

Her smile widened into a malicious slice of dark triumph as three delicious words rolled from her lips. "Kneel and beg."

Yes, she wanted them to feel an ounce of what she felt in those first few months in exile; her pride clogging here throat, her humiliation, the knowledge she was helpless to a whole wide world.

David took a hobbled step forward, one hand out as though to compromise with her. "Regina w-"

"Don't try to mollify me," the witch interposed evenly, her words calm and sleek with a victory that could not be dampened. "You banished me for life. You took my son away from me. You should thank your lucky stars I simply didn't come here to scoop my son up and let you all meet your ends at the hands of this Zelena. You should thank whatever deities still look down with favor upon you I have a voice in my ear urging me to do the right thing."

"Now," she all but crooned out the word past her infuriating smile, "On. Your. Knees."

Looking at each other the nobles silently debated amongst one another to lower and debase themselves so. Yet what choice did they retain? They were at Regina's mercy now and knew that very well.

Sucking in her pink lips so that her mouth was a thin line of anger, Emma glared daggers at the once more noble Regina. Her eyes boiled angrily with embers of rage as she slowly fell down to a knee. "Help us, Regina," she ground out past her pencil thin mouth as her eyes turned to the marble swirled floor. "We can't do this without your magic."

On her example, one by one David, as best he could, Hook, Snow, Ruby, the fairies, and the dwarves knelt in posterity to the witch.

Forced begging fell from their lips as each pleaded for her aid. What would any of their groveling matter anyway if they were all dead?

A sharp smile of devilish triumph aligned Regina's lips as she stared down upon them. Thrills shivered up and down her spine as the feeling of power raced through her veins. Their words were as the sweetest of songs to her ears.

Oh but she had missed parts of her queenly reign, the power, the respect.

"You see," her words fell like poisoned honey from his smiling mouth, "not so hard." Turning to the left, away from them, as though they were bugs she stared out the large glass window towards the war torn west that pointed to all their troubles. "Now." She placed her hands on her hips and sauntered confidently to the grimy panes. "Let's talk on how to wipe this witch off the face of the realms."


	18. Plans

_A/N: Touched up this chapter a bit. Reread and wasn't very please. _

**~8~8~**

"Oh I do _so _like this place," Zelena purred unctuously in a wicked smile as she traipsed triumphantly through the finery of the punctiliously restored quarters that had once belong to Queen Regina. Her words oozed into a low, pleased chuckle from her ruby lips with each moment her eyes spotted some new luxury that surrounded her.

Happily twirling about in the center of the room, she let the pleasure of her newly gotten gains soak into her like summer suns rays on her swamp stained skin. Hers, she trilled inwardly, all the riches, the wealth, the power, hers.

Glamorous bibelots and expensive trinkets strewed the luxurious decorated rooms Regina had once called her own. Restored exactly as they had been before the Dark Curse, Regina's palace was a treasure trove that would have made a dragon envious of the gleaming spoils within.

The halls were bedecked in smooth obsidian stone, the rooms were ostentatiously gilded, and every luxury she could ever desire lay at her fingertips. Riches poured gratuitously from every niche and alcove that festooned the ominous citadel. One gilt room alone from the lower floors could have kept a village fed through three winters itself and perhaps more!

Why Regina had ever desired to be away from all her wealth and affluence was a mystery never to be solved in Zelena's book. Who would want to run from such luxury or at least not take some with them to a strange new world?

Half dizzy, but from the heady adrenaline more than anything, the witch came to a halt in her twirl of joy. Smile beaming in a garnet smirk, she hurriedly strutted to a vanity in the queens private chambers.

Gilt with sleek black marble about the edges, the vanity was the apex of the gilded room. An oval mirror large enough to serve as a small table gleamed with renewed brilliance as well as the sable and silver swirled marble countertop newly littered with the old possessions Regina had simply let be forgotten to the dust and time.

Starting from the left end of the vanity, the witch vapidly let her gaze roam as she took in all the treasures that heaped upon the furnishing. The very tips of her jade fingers roved greedily over the tops of the vibrant multi-colored amphora's filled with exotic perfumes from as far as Agrabah. A smile perked upon her teal face as she vapidly walked the length of the vanity allowing her hand to roam freely over all the items nestled there once more. Pearl inlayed jewelry boxes heaped with black pearls and diamonds sat like rowed blocks against the glass, hand mirrors gilded in silver scrawl and gold filigree lay face down upon the marble top, and paints of deepest kohl and fiercest vermilion all sat clustered upon the vanity in their gilded pots, restored from their forgotten state in the ruin.

Staring at the riches she could only marvel at their luxury. Oh but a regular peasant a woman could die in utter happiness with but a pittance of such baubles at her disposal.

"I can't believe she gave all of this grandeur up," the emerald witch commented aloud in near disbelief. Greedily plundering up two malachite earrings from beneath a tangled mass of black pearls she placed them near her ears as she stared out of the large vanity mirror. "So many riches just lying here, forgotten, waiting to be plucked." She shook her head and dropped the tear drop earrings back to the box they had rested in. "And she gave them all away."

Behind her, Rumpelstiltskin sighed sharply as though her words were already a bore to him. Hands clasped tightly before him, he flashed a hateful half smile. "They're all yours now. Everything she had is at your disposal and so much more."

Now, given that she had Regina's very castle, her rampage would be mollified or at the very least her worst pains of supposed slights appeased.

An icy shiver thrilled pleasantly down Zelena's spine. "I know." Her lips arched into a wicked grin of accomplishment. "And this, here." She waved a hand flippantly and looked at his displeased face through the mirror's reflection. "Was everything I hoped it would be."

Power, riches, triumph everything her dearest sister had had, and so foolishly gave away. All hers now. All hers.

"If this is what you've wanted why terrorize everyone else?" Without looking at her, he proffered his hand about the glamorous room. "You've got your revenge on me for spurning you, you've got her castle, and all her things…." He paused, his brow knitting furtively. "What else do you possibly want?"

If all she wished was to replace Regina, to have the life she never led then why still terrorize the realms? Regina had not ruled in such a manner that was so grossly blatant. Why was she deviating off her obsession?

"There is just one last thing, Rumpel," she chuckled in her poisonous honey timbre and turned to him. "I want everything she possibly ever had, including the power and fear she held over all the realms. When she ruled she did not live in peace with other kingdoms, she _allowed _kingdoms to remain in place and rule. They thrived or floundered under her orders and commands. I want those as well, the puppet monarchies in my hand to do with as I please as they pay me tribute and cower in their beds every night wondering if I see fit to wipe them off the face of the realms or leave them be."

After that, she reveled inwardly, she would be complete in her chore of gaining everything Regina had ever had in her spoilt little life and beginning the one that should have been hers in the first place.

The fiend pointed an accusing talon to the witch. "You're not just trying to cow Snow White and David's realm," he declared lowly, his voice laden dark and low with hate. "You could have done that the first week if you so chose."

"So perceptive," Zelena hissed tritely, her lips never moving from a villainous smile. "They are my example kingdom. Their tale of defeat and woe will keep everyone else in line. Besides," she added in a thoughtful, malicious hum, "Regina would have never let their little family keep their happiness. I suppose in honor of my deposed sister I will see them gone as well."

Abruptly, her eyes gleamed in devious thought. "Speaking of which…," she let the words remained unfinished.

Raising her left hand she called magic to her. A green glow of powerful magic burned like jade fire over her finger tips. The glow of the power flickered against her face in an eerie dance of emerald shadow and light for a moment before she thrust her hand out to her side to face rows of opened spider veined windows.

A shrill screech of a monkey chattered evilly through the air as a winged creature received some silent compunction through the power. Like magic itself the beast crawled from wherever it had been lurking outside the palace and sat upon the black cast iron railing of the balcony. Claws curled in a vice over the iron, the beast squatted and beat it's heavy fists against the rail in vicious delight.

Smiling with almost a fondness for the creature, Zelena flicked a hand at the beast. "Take your brothers and attack the castle of Snow White once more. Make them really feel the loss this time," she ordered repugnantly.

An utterly evil smile loomed vilely over the creatures wide face as he nodded eagerly to Zelena's silent bequest. Always bloodthirsty the creatures she had created wer always ready to shed blood.

Diving away from the railing the creature took to the skies like a nightmare itself. For but a moment the beast was a singular entity in the gray sky before other gray bodies began to clot the firmament.

Like demons summoned from the depths of Hades, droves of monkeys flew past the window of Regina's ornate chambers. Their fur clad, gray and black bodies mottled out the sun as they made straight way for the realm of the Charming's with Zelena's demands in their minds.

"Since we were speaking of the Charming's," the green witch began carelessly and turned her face back to the Dark One, "I thought they deserved another little visit. Maybe this time I'll actually get them to kill someone precious. How would Snow White feel without her little husband or daughter?" She banked her head mockingly to the left as though she genuinely wanted his opinion. "Hmm, Rumpel? Which shall they slay?"

Staring fearlessly into the Wicked Witches eyes the Dark One glared murder upon her. She really had thought several steps ahead of them all, making every move seem erratic but was in complete actuality a carefully arranged plot with all moves covered by a counter plan. The killing would look random but only they two knew how thought out the taking of one of their lives would be.

Their eyes locked for a hard moment before the magical monster looked away from her emerald eyes, his mind without a hint of how to throw a wrench in her erroneous plans for the realms or stop the murder that was to come.

~8~8~

"We have to get a message to her somehow," Regina wryly contemplated aloud to her fellow conspirators as they discussed their plans. Index finger steadily tapping her chin, the witch paced the council room like a restless panther as she let her mind whirl with cunning. Thoughtfulness traced her pale face in stark lines of deep thinking as she wound and unwound the plan they had set forth in her head like a cord of spinners yarn.

Frustrated sigh bursting from her mouth, Emma waved a hand in defeat. "We've tried everything," she rebutted in piqued helplessness and sunk glumly in her chair like a sullen child. "Don't you think if we could have just surrendered and given her the kingdom to avoid bloodshed we would have? We've attempted to speak with her but she never replies and the attacks keep coming. We can't lure her that way."

Since the first attack they had tried with all their power to reach a reconciliation or accord with their attacker but she was deaf to their pleas and even their declaration of surrender. She meant to wipe them off the realms like a greasy stain and no amount of coercion would convince her otherwise.

"There has to be something," the witch snapped sharply in refutation as though striking Emma's negative words down with an intangible blade. "There is always something. If we can get her into the trap then I can catch her before she even has a chance to cast one spell, let alone order Rumpelstiltskin to some mischief against us."

That was what all their hopes relied upon, of course, one plan with the imperative need for the element of surprise. With Regina as their trump card the Wicked Witch could possibly be dealt perhaps a staggering blow enough for them to finish her, or at least Regina to end her.

Brow knit in deep thought, Snow looked forward as though staring down an appearing idea on the round table. "If requests for peace and surrender won't lure her here maybe a threat will," she suggested tentatively still grasping the idea herself.

"Yes because if people don't show up for peace talks they will certainly be first in line for a death threat," Regina huffed sarcastically. Hands curled into tight fists, she placed them on her hips and paused in her steady trek. Eyes ablaze with intense frustration she caustically eyed the tired Snow as though she was a dull witted child. "But still that's the most productive idea I've heard from one of you in the two hours we've been here," she couldn't keep the curiosity form her regal timbre. "What are you thinking?"

Pale eyes alit with epiphany, the queen of the white castle found Regina's hard russet orbs. "What if we made a threat to big to ignore? Something she had to come and deal with?" She motioned her hands as though trying to unravel the entangled thought in her mind. "Something like… like… the dark curse. If it was to be let out that we were trying to enact a dark curse to get away from her…."

"She would come here to try and stop us personally," the former queen concluded, her voice soft as she caught on.

If she wanted them dead then she would have to stop the curse from taking place. In reality there wouldn't be a curse, but with enough regents to make the action seem viable, the aggressor would have to come down to at least investigate or at the most deter them.

Emma nodded sternly and crossed her arms. "And that's when we'll catch her."

"Correction, Miss Swan that's when I wipe her from existence," the witch clarified in dark calmness. Casting an askance glare to the bail bondswoman, her eyes thinned nearly into slits of irresolute hate. "I'm not taking a chance of letting her retaliate. She arrives, she dies. Simple as that, Miss Swan."

The woman had already done too much to warrant life. Not from Regina anyway. Not only had she put her son in peril but all he would inherit as king one day. She had laid waste to those she called enemy and though she was no fan of the Charming's they were her hated foes, not anyone elses.

"Which means you, Regina need to be careful," David grunted heavily as he rose from a chair and aright unto his knobby crutches. Caution liberally painted his face in an outline of wariness towards the woman who had come to their aid. "All of this rests on her not knowing you're here. We don't have a plan B if we are discovered before the time is right."

Jerking her head sharply to Snow's husband, the witch glowered imperiously as though some peasant had insulted her. "Don't you think I know that!" she snapped irascibly at his stupidity. "I won't even be here in the castle but the forest fringe. If her eyes are set on this castle she won't look so close at the surroundings." She settled out a bit. "A blind spot if you will."

"Then let's get started shall we?" Hook piped up with a firm sigh. Padding forward, he motioned his gleaming silver appendage to the door. "We'll get the regents and the rumors started. You should be in hiding. We don't have time to waste for anymore bickering and insults."

A cold smile festooned her lips as she looked over them all again. "Agreed, captain," she demurred.

With the two hours they had been deliberating they knew that every moment was a precious gift. Zelena was a wily, erratic foe with a tactile mind that could rival Rumpelstiltskin's and spin a web of cunning and evil as well as Regina ever could. Who knew when she was planning to stop toying with them like a cat with an injured mouse and just bite off their head?

Striding haughtily to the door to turn to their task, the witch looked every inch the restored queen now in her natural stride she had known so long. A sigh fell past her smiling lips as her hand weakly touched the bronzed latch. A milieu of near incomprehensible thoughts whirled in a titanic twister in her head now with their plan in place.

There was no doubt in her mind the plan would work, but what then? After the green sorceress had been sent to the depths of Tartarus where she crawled out of what would be her own course? Would that path involve Robin, she wondered in burning contemplation as she opened the door and stepped out into the cold hall.

"Belle should go with you," Emma stated wryly as she and the rest followed out behind Regina from the council chamber.

If something happened and the witch managed to find out that the beauty was no longer an ogre that would be a dead giveaway something was wrong. Now with Regina on their side they couldn't risk any happenstance giving them away in such a revealing manner.

Winding down the wide, familiar tapestry laden halls, Regina nodded assiduously. "A fair point Miss Swan," she sighed impertinently without looking back to the princess or the rest of them. "Book worm you're coming with m-." Her words ran to a halt as she nearly bumped into Henry coming around the corner of the corridor.

Surprise stamped the boy's face as he stopped inches from his mother before barreling her over. A faint look of guilt lightly dabbed his cheeks in a pallid scarlet. "Mom," his voice was apologetic as though he had gotten caught. Eyes strafing away from her, he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Sorry I didn't you know you guys were out already."

"Henry what are you doing up here?" concern mildly hinted her voice as she maternally looked him over as though some illness possessed him. "I thought you were with Robin?"

"And so he is," the archer claimed not far behind the boy. Roguish smile plastered upon his lips he padded up to Henry's right as though they were old friends. "I convinced him to show me around the castle while we talked," he reveled easily as though he were merely chatting about the weather.

Dark accusation immediately swathed across Regina's face with the declaration of his intentions. Though not so outwardly spoken she judged his words with an expertise that came with being about him so long. "You mean you convinced him to take you up here to spy on me," she spat venomously at the noble thief.

There was no other reason they were up so high in the castle. Henry could have taken him ten different ways up and down, inside and out but there they were where they shouldn't have been not three feet from the council room.

"I don't spy," Robin feigned affront for the blistering accusation, his eyes glinting in mischief. "I prefer the term checking in," he refuted cheekily.

Though he did trust her, he was not so unduly ignorant to think she had mastered all the darkness in her in so soon a time. Angry as she might be for his checking in, he just wanted to make sure that the threads of her composure where not burning with the dark, malicious flames of the woman she had been before.

"I'm sorry and who is this?" Snow queried in confusion from behind her daughter. Suspicion wrinkled her near flawless visage as she started curiously at the strange man that seemed in no way threatened or frightened by Regina's flare of obfuscate anger. That alone was enough to rouse suspicion about him.

A soft, sincere smile donned Robin's lips as he looked behind Regina. "Forgive me," the archer returned tactfully. "Allow me to introduce myself." He dipped a deep bow at the waist. "I am Robin of Locksley, better known as Robin Hood, your majesties. I am Regina's protector. I and my Merry Men came here with her because she is one of us and we heard your peaceful kingdom was besieged. We're here to help as best we can. If we may be of service in anyway possible please let me know."

"And mom I really was showing him the castle," Henry interposed on the archer's behalf to mollify her anger. "We've had a lot to talk about too. He told me all the good stuff you did and how you're trying to change to be good."

"Yeah right," Grumpy snorted incredulously and scowled past his salt and peppered beard. "I guess making those who need help fall to their knees and beg goes right under Miss Saint-of-the-year, don't it?" he grumbled sarcastically, his tone bitterly spiteful.

A look of confusion wrinkled the thief's handsome face as his eyes found Regina once more. "What's he talking about?"

"We're talking about your girlfriend here not being so good as you might think," Ruby extolled angrily, still upset from their earlier task of having to bend knee and neck to Regina. "Making us kneel and beg to her to be exact."

What she had done was a humiliation. If he really thought Regina was getting better then he was wrong. Oh so wrong. She showed just what still lingered in her in the fist ten minutes of being back. Her appearance to him simply had to be a maudlin act, not so genuine as he believed.

Stepping forward, Emma placed a hand on Henry's shoulder. "Let's uh… we have work to do for our plans," the princess awkwardly informed her son in order to get him away from his adopted mother before his good outlook of her could be dashed.

No matter how much she despised Regina personally, she would not let him hear bad things about her just after having hope she had changed. His love of Regina was too precious to let down even if she had made them beg and kneel.

Looking back to the others, her eyes flashed quick caution to the storm they all felt brewing. "I think that stands for all us as well," she hinted for them to be gone as fast as they could.

All assenting to her subtle words, the delegation of dwarfs, fairies, and humans scattered like chaff leaving only the exile and the archer in the dark hall to talk over deed she had forced upon them.

Looking anywhere but at him, the witch fought to keep a guilty look from her face. Why did things have to come back to bite her so early? Why couldn't he have found out... never?

Stare pinioned upon her the archer belted a long suffering sigh. Fists posted at his hips he looked at her with disappointment in his whiskey depths. "Kneeling and begging?" he parroted the dwarf and Ruby, his tone searching for answers from her.

There was no doubt in his mind she had done something of that nature to them, but why?

Shaking her head, she expertly bolstered herself against his gaze. "So I slipped a little," she replied stonily and stared at him fearlessly as though she had done nothing wrong. "It happens to the best of us."

"You said you could handle this," he retorted softly with a morose frown. "I trusted you to keep the evil at bay."

He had put all faith into her, but perhaps, he was regretting, too soon had he relied on her power to control that darkness that prowled her heart alone. These were not some people who had thrown rocks at her, these were the people who had exiled her from all she knew. Oh yes, he kicked himself inwardly, he should have been more vigilant and thoughtful. He should have never let her go alone.

"It wasn't evil per say." Regina shrugged her shoulders carelessly. "What I did was more me being petty than anything." She had made them bow she hadn't order their first born children as slaves for heavens sakes.

Sighing, he tossed his head. "Regina-"

"Don't Regina me," she hissed before he could say more. Eyes hard as stone to hide her pain she glared angrily upon him. "Don't you understand, they expected something like that! They will only see me as the evil queen no matter what I do. Furthermore did you honestly think I was going to let what they did to me be forgotten? I know what I did and I don't regret a thing!" Pain finally softened the steel in her eyes as they pinioned to his own. "Hate me for it if you want to, just like them," her voice dropped guiltily and she looked away again.

Like mist against a summer sun, the accusation on the thief's face evaporated into nothingness towards her words. Compassion for her took him thrall and swept him away in a helpless pull towards her heart.

Slowly lifting his right hand, he gently caressed her pale cheek with his knuckles. "I will never hate you, Regina," he promised softly from the depths of his heart. "I may not like all that you do but I will never hate you. I just wish you could see that you don't have to be the woman who makes other kneel and beg. You don't have to be that person. That isn't you."

Hot tears brimmed like wet crystals in her coppery depths at his heart spoken oath. She hadn't felt aggrieved for her actions with his frustration at her or their anger; that had only prompted her stubbornness, but his understanding, his will to be compassionate filled her with utmost regret.

Shame brimmed in the very rim of her heart with every ounce of understanding and love he washed upon her. He could have been angry, he could have said he had misplaced his trust, but instead he promised love and understanding and a silent promise to work harder with her.

Finding his caring eyes again, she stared with insoluble misery and regret into his umber depths. "Why can't you see that the darkness will always be a part of me?" she whispered hollowly, her lips quivering. Why couldn't he come to grips with that and run from her like he well should have done? Hadn't she already proved she would never be fully rid of the darkness?

"I know that, Regina," Robin returned softly. Stealing closer to her, he placed his forehead against hers in a lovers comfort. "Some part of that will always have you. Part of this darkness is who you are and I would not change you into something you are not for all the magic in the world. Good or bad I love you, not who others want you to be. I love you for yourself. But I also know that you want to be good. All that can be asked is that the good far outweighs the bad one day." He brushed a chaste kiss to her lips lovingly wiped away a tear from her right cheek with his thumb. "And I will help you on that journey to be who you want to be with every breath in my body. If you fall I will pick you up, if you slide, I will toil harder to bring you back to the woman I know you to be, and if the fire of goodness ever dims in your chest I will coax that flame back to life with all I have. "

Leaning into him, Regina held him as her rock in a tumultuous sea of querulous emotions. His words were like balm to her burning heart, cooling her and taking away her shame. If no one else believed in her at least he had faith that she could change.

"I guess today wasn't my most shining moment," she laughed quietly, a small sad smile coming to her lips.

Soft laughter regaling from his mouth, he gentle kissed her forehead. "We'll work on -." He got no further as a chattering, vile screech raucously filled the chill air.

Before either could fathom what was happening, bloody cries rang frighteningly through the frigid air. Old alarm bells in the lookout towers pealed sonorously about the keep with the tale of sudden battle bestowed upon the fortress.

"Attack!" A warrior yelled. "The monkey's are here!" The dread words filled the air before being garbled in a bloody cry.

Looking at each other numbly for a moment both found the same thought in half a heartbeat. The monkeys were outside attacking. Roland, Henry, and all the others were out there as well.

Waving her hand sharply through the air, the witch teleported them down in but a moment to the vestibule in a puff of deep amethyst smoke. Instantly the smog shredded away as they arrived as though sensing the urgency in the powers use and revealing the pair close to the battle.

Bow and an arrow out in his hands in a flash, the archer raced towards the open double doors they had entered by. From the outline of the doors the world outside looked akin to a grotesque, bellicose picture.

Gray and black monkeys with heavy, feathery wings swooped like deadly avian nightmares from the gray sky. Dagger like claws flashed on every paw and slashed through the ranks with deadly efficiency. Their ever smiling maws showed an array of silver needle-like sharp teeth that could snap through leather armor with one powerful bite and rend flesh with a laughable ease. Their bodies were wiry with plenty of muscle beneath the sleek fur to easily overwhelm a single fighter and tear through ranks to scatter them.

Chattering wildly the bests swarmed the air above the defenders in a vulture like circle. At times one would fly down and scoop an unfortunate soul up only to drop them down from the air in a heap of broken bone and twisted flesh whilst those that had dropped down from the circle fought savagely against the defenders.

More than once the body of a dwarf or a noble would flash past the door as they were pushed back or plowed forward against an enemy in the bloody struggle of whole courtyard was doused in chaos and blood from monkey and man adding a vibrant flare of disgusting color to the framed picture of war.

Scanning the area from the threshold of the door, the archer searched the courtyard for his men. While as far as he could discern, they all were alive if fighting for their lives, he had all faith they could handle themselves. Roland on the other hand….

Even as the boys name came to mind, he spotted his son near the gates they had entered through. Huddling under an upturned cart the boy looked through the wooden bars at the slaughter of man and beast. Fear welled in his bright, round eyes with his salty tears as he shivered miserably under the cart in abject terror of the carnage.

Spying his father, he clasped his tiny hands around the bars of his safety prison and pressed his tear stained face as close as he could like a little miserable prisoner. "Paw paw!" he cried in the terrible tumult of screams and screeching and the rending of flesh.

The name had barely left his lips before the entire cart rattled and shook violently from the outside. Wood and spokes rattling crazily as though in a gale, the lad found his bower of safety over turned with barely a thought.

Looking up, his wide, round eyes wide with terror, he found the face of a blood thirsty monkey grinning down with devilish intent for slaughter.

"Roland!" Robin yelled feverishly to his son now out in the open and without protection from the murderous beasts.

Notching his bow, he sent the hawk feathered shaft at the creature that had so easily overturned the heavy cart that hid Roland from the fight. As the shaft left his hands already he snapped out another and to send to the beast.

The arrow hissed a deadly song through the air as the shaft sank deep into the furry creature's long, lanky arm. A cry of pain belted in an infuriated screech from the monkey's lips as the barbed shaft sunk deep into magical flesh. Blood spurted in vile green ichors from the ugly, cagey body in a gush of fluid that soaked its charcoal pelt with steaming blood.

Furious the creature ripped the barbed projectile from its body and roared at the archer before another arrow barreled into its chest. Stunned, the creature gargled a cry of pain right as another arrow hit lower by the second shaft.

And again another arrow flew as the third projectile struck. One by one, the thief drew and snapped off arrows in a steady rhythm worthy of the best archer in legend.

As though sent by magic the arrows sank into the creature until it looked akin to a half used pin cushion. Quivering shafts stuck out of its hairy chest in nearly a small circle in the middle of its torso. One arrow might not have stolen the beasts life but five surely would.

A garbled shriek sailed from the creatures blood stained mouth as its clawed hands tried to keep the flowing blood in its body. Vile green blood the color of swamp muck dripped in a steady stream from each puncture. Taking a staggering step forward as though it could charge the archer, the creature began to fall and thrash in death.

As the beast tumbled to the earth, before he hit the ground, the monster dissipated into a vile cloud of pale ash. Wisps of what was left of the monster curled in little pale puffs of flake as they stole away on the wind with nothing more of the beast in sight.

Not taking a moment to celebrate, the father ran towards his boy. If he could just get him in the castle then he would be alright. Eyes pinioned to his beloved son he had no other vision but for him. As he came almost an arms length to his boy, another monkey swooped down from the sky to his right.

Claws outstretched and toothy smile wide, the ugly brute dove in straight for the bandit's side. Claws flashing in the dismal eve, the creature barreled rabidly into the thief with a cataclysmic crash.

Tumbling and rolling violently along the blood slick courtyard, so that who was who was impossible to discern, the two fought barbarically for the advantage. Fists punched out and claws slashed in the bitter struggle for victory.

Bitterly they kicked and jabbed and clawed like two animals, but with the brute's magical strength endowed upon its body, the thief found the monkey atop him in vicious attack.

Head hitting the stone hard after one slash from the beast, the archer could only stare up at the heavy creature over him.

Jaw clacking gluttonously, the beast eagerly snapped to rip his throat out of the outlaw and he clawed and scratched and gouged at his prey in a flurry of unrequited savagery.

Gritting his teeth, Robin snatched up his bow to his front and used the weapon to keep the creature at bay. Holding the weapon horizontally in his grip he pushed the creature back from sinking his jaws into his throat or tearing his face to shreds.

Turning his head to where his son sat in terror watching the brawl, he pushed the bow firmer against the creature to hold him off for a few more seconds. "Run Roland!" He screamed desperately and tried to blink the blood away from his eyes. "To the castle! Now!"

If Roland could get to the castle then at least if he died he knew his son was safe. At least he would know inside Regina would look after him.

As the words left his mouth, that last hope was dashed in a moment as another monkey landed like a comment beside the boy.

Horror traced Robin's face as he watched the creature appear next to his son. The feathery wings pumped great gusts of wind stirring the ash of the dead monkey on the stones and bowling Roland over unto his back with the titanic zephyrs the creature summoned from landing.

An evil chatter chuckled nastily past the creature's nearly nonexistent lips as the beast loomed over the boy. Silver claws flexing eagerly, the beast lifted a hand to end the boy's life in once savage slash.

Looking on, a cry wished to sail past Robin's lips but he found no words, no sounds to speak. Was he boy really going to die before his eyes?

Locked in terror, Roland looked up helplessly to the beast. Face paralyzed with fear, he could only watch as his own demise took place.

With a chatter of glee, the beasts hand swiped down.

Covering his face with his arm, the boy went rigid waiting for the blow to strike. For a breathless moment he hung with the thought of death, then... nothing.

Bravely, the ever curious boy peeked from behind his sleeve to see that had saved his life. His eyes grew wide as coins as he stared directly into the beast's silver claws not an inch from his face.

The monkey still loomed over him but all its body was a still as a statue.

Surprised as well, Robin turned an eye away from his son to see the same had happened to his attacker. No longer was the beast slashing to end his life but was oddly paralyzed in mid fight.

Stock still, the beast was locked into place like a rusted tin toy. Confusion masked the creatures rapidly moving eyes but that was all that could be moved of the beast. A dark purple tint traced the body of the creature locking the beast in an intangible prison they could not shake free.

All about the courtyard the same had occurred. Every beast was frozen where they stood of flew with a purple tint outlying their bodies.

Looking past the creature in abject awe, the thief spied the cause of their rescue.

Standing magnanimously at the threshold of the castle, Regina held out her hands before her. Magic pulsed from her palms in a steady flow of power that froze the monkeys where they stood.

A smirk traced Regina's lips as she gazed over the now frozen courtyard. "We are ending this now," she stated imperiously. Closing her hands she let the lethal spell finishing its course.

In an instant every monkey began to quake as though being shaken by some invisible hand. A look of fear cast about their faces before they erupted into a cloud of ash; no more to be seen upon the face of the realms.

Relief spewed from Robin's lips in a sigh of relief as the creature dissipated from sight. Flakes of ash mottled his green foresters garb but little else than that and a few cuts donned his body.

Clamoring eagerly to his feet, now that the threat was finished he raced straight way to his son. "Roland," he breathed the name like an answered prayer. Hastily, the thief scoped the boy up and held him close. Eyes closed to hold back tears, he hugged the boy tight to himself. "You're safe, son. You're safe."

In less than a moment he had nearly seen his son slain. Never had any threat come so close to wiping out his son. Not even the ogre. He had almost watched his life flee his body if not for Regina. How much did he owe his love now for himself and his son twice over?

"What was that, Regina?" an infuriated Emma snapped from the suddenly ended battle. Like a cloud of rage she stomped up to the woman at the door. Breath heaving heavily from her scarred body, she stapled her gaze towards the woman accusingly Anger glinted in her eyes as she frowned direly at the witch. "Are you crazy?" She all but stabbed her bloody sword back into the its sheath.

"Excuse me?" the exile bit back venomously, not half believing the words of the bail bondswoman. "I just saved your life, Miss Swan. I just saved everyone's life."

Eyes hard as stone, the princess scowled furiously at the witch. "At what cost? You just ruined the plan. Zelena will know you're here now! You didn't save our lives, you just made a stay of execution! We could have handled it to save other lives in the future. Why did you just spoil the last plan we had!"

There was no way the green aberration wouldn't know something was up when not one monkey returned. When she realized the truth she would only send Rumpel to keep Regina out the way if she didn't come to kill her herself!

"You leave Miss Regina alone!" the childish voice of Roland yelled out angrily toward the savior. Tottering heroically towards the witch he looked up at Emma vehemently. Fist balled tight as though he would start punching her shins, he glowered at her. "If mama didn't use her magic Paw paw and me and others would be dead. So you leave her alone, you big mean bully. She wouldn't have done it for no reason," he argued in a moment of childish wisdom.

Shocked at the sight of a little child in their midst, Emma looked down then up at Regina. Awe stapled across her features as she blinked owlishly. So that's why she had done it. "I… I…," she couldn't find the words to say.

She had been protecting a child. A child who called her mama no less.

"If Henry was in peril would you have let him die?" Regina rebuffed quietly only for Emma to hear.

Yes, she knew exactly what she had thrown away but she couldn't have let Roland or Robin perish. Better she had stomped upon her own heart.

Before the princess could respond another voice rang through the air. "The lad's right." Little John stepped up in defense for her. "Regina saved every last one of us! We may be bloody and battered but not a one of us is dead!"

"Aye!" One bloody guardsmen who had nearly been picked up agreed. He raised a plated fist. "Three cheers for Regina!"

Shouts and hopeful cheers rent the air as the proclamation went out. Warriors slammed hilts of swords to shields and other clapped energetically for the witch. Before them was a ray of hope, to know not everything was just a losing battle. Regina's interference had done far more than ruin a plan. She had given them morale to go on.

Genuinely taken aback by their praise, the witch looked about the courtyard at the cheering faces. Confusion pulsed in an erratic, strange beat about her heart. How could they be cheering for her? How could they be on her side and not golden child Emma Swan?

"They're right," Emma admitted, her voice low with regret. Hesitation filled her tone with the novelty of actually owing Regina an apology. "I'm sorry for snapping at you. All you did was save our lives."

Bending down, Regina scooped up the young Roland. Holding him tight she never took her eyes off the savior. "Forgiven, Miss Swan. And I'm sorry about my actions earlier. I shouldn't have done that."

Giving a laconic nod the warrior princess padded away to attend those who were wounded in the battle. Shaking her head she tried to calm herself from her frantic emotions. Maybe Regina was trying to change after all.

Smiling at the now recovered child, the witch brushed a few flakes of ash from his brow. "Thank you for coming to my rescue Roland." She smiled in pent relief to the lad. Heaven only knew she didn't have many defenders.

Beaming brightly, the boy looked every inch a hero. That was what protectors did of course and since his father was her protector he had to be one as well.

"Now doesn't it feel better to have them cheer you willfully than bow through coercion?" Robin asked as he padded beside her. Brushing back Roland's hair, he flashed her a grateful look from the depths of his heart.

Involuntarily a smile bloomed strangely upon Regina's face as she stared into her loves eyes. With Roland in her arms, and Robin by her side, inwardly she had to admit; being cheered did feel… nice.

~8~8~

High above in the newly restored castle, Zelena looked down upon the disgustingly happy scene from the cold hard stone that served as her scrying pool. The smiling faces of the trio of man, woman, and child nearly brought bile spewing from her lips. A dire, downward crescent of vast displeasure curved her ruby lips as she felt out for how many of her forces had been lost.

Two scores of monkeys were dead in an instant. All thanks to the unexpected return of her blasted sister.

Since she had arrived to terrorize the realms, she had given nary a thought to Regina. The nobles had done her work better than she could have herself. They had stripped Regina of all her vaunted titles and made her a hated nobody. That had been the most delectable punishment of all for her sister. Now Regina had to be as she had once been, alone with no one and nothing.

Just like Regina had been unknowing and uncaring of her half sister she didn't even have the slightest clue existed, so did she wish the same now with Regina. Regina would be nothing to her, yet in another way making her more like what she should have been instead of her sister.

Yet there Regina stood, happy, with some man and his bastard child, and with magic. Now she wasn't being hated she was being loved. Yet another thing she herself would never have.

"A wrench in your plans, Zelena?" Rumpel tittered mockingly from his cage on the opposite end of the room. Though he couldn't peer into the scrying stone, he certainly could gather by her displeased aura what she saw and who wrought such anger out of her ever at ease countenance.

Fastidiously covering her displeasure, the green serpent smoothed out her rage into an always controlled face. "An unexpected contingency," she parried expertly without a hint of anger. "Which could add to my fun. We both know she's not as powerful as I," she stated almost with happiness at the new occurrence. " This is worse for her than for me. She could have lived out the rest of her day's miserable in the forest, but no," the green sorceress mused in mocking pity more than anything. "Now I will simply have to spend a little more time crushing them, drawing out their agony for this affront."

A wicked chuckle tumbled maliciously past her vermilion lips as she turned away from the happy scene that still swirled on the floor behind her. "And by the time I'm done with her she'll have wished she never set a foot out of the woods..."


	19. Family Bonds

Pale alabaster flakes of the first snow of the season swirled viciously upon the realms in howling blasts of frigid wind. Fronds of frost turned the world into a blank slate of off white in the darkness of the short day.

In the gauzy haze of the oblique snow, the keep of the Charming's sat as a temple of warmth and luminance in the gray bleakness. Bright yellow light glowed merrily from every high, narrow window to alight the night and the heavily bundled bodies of look outs studded the ramparts like black dots place atop a cake.

The snow had began a few hours after the battle with the monkeys had been at an end and now all those who had fought sat comfortable in the safety of the keep. In the fierceness of the inclement storm, the weather nor even Zelena herself could do much to dampen their rekindled spirits.

A smile stole intrepidly upon Regina's thoughtful face as she looked from the balcony of the feasting hall down below.

Long panels of wide oaken tables placed end to end so that they stretched the entirety of the hall flanked either side of the elongated chamber. Towards the back of the room a table sat widthwise so that all the tables formed something of an open rectangle with a long block of open space in the center. Dozens of what once had been alabaster columns lined the chamber on both sides. Torch scones studded each column and trailed ribbons of deep sable smoke so that the stone was stained in black and jaundice yellow that trailed to the rafters.

Saucy severing wenches dipped and wove fluidly past the smoke stained white columns that held up the hall to serve hungry soldiers and the ever gluttonous men of Robin Hood's band.

Scrumptious food, aromatic smells, and fine ale and mead all heaped on and about the feasting tables for those that were not filled again with the breath of faith.

An air of hope and festivity reigned through the air as they sat and ate and drank voraciously. Despite some grievous injuries of the recent attack, not one soul had been lost. Everyone bore a scar of some sort but they all still held breath in their bodies which was more than enough cause to roar in happiness against the wind and spit in their accursed attacker's eye with their joy.

Celebration roared from wide, grinning mouth that chattered of their feats of glory. Toasts to Regina and life itself sailed merrily from ale stained mouths as they raised their foaming mugs to the stained rafters and crashed them together in toasts of victory.

Too long had they been without the will to triumph. Now, that was all changed for the better.

At least, Regina hoped in the depths of her heart that had all changed for the better.

Though Emma's words after the battle had been onerous and uncalled for, they still held a sliver of truth. What course would they take now that the witch knew she was there and endowed with magic? She was a threat and Zelena had a host of extremely effective ways to squash the defiance in a hearts beat.

Shaking the unpleasant thought away like the lingering memory of a bad dream, the restored witch cast her scrupulous gaze to the rough and tumble node of Merry Men gathered at the long table closest to her.

Gales of raucous laughter from Little John and Robin rose incessantly through the air like the ribbons of smoke from the torches. Heartily slapping one another's backs they gulped down frothy mugs of ale as they regaled interested warriors of old heists and tales of their lives when Prince John had despotically ruled their realm.

Sitting on his fathers lap, happy little Roland listened raptly as though he had not heard the stories thousands of time. Half soggy heel of bread in one hand, he chewed intermittently as he looked from John to his father who bandied the tales back and forth from their points of view and made knowing jabs to each other if they over embellished any facts of their adventures.

Sitting next to Robin, Henry absorbed their tales with wide eyes as his mind swarmed with thoughts of adventure. Half listening, half playing with Roland like any older brother would, he seemed in his very element about the Merry Men and Robin Hood. He had warmed up to Robin the first time he had met the daring thief and now they seemed as though Henry was just one of the lads as well in one great, big family.

Happiness stirred warmly in her heart as she watched the rather familial transaction. No longer did she sit a castle away in the dark and brood on how to destroy such happiness. If she wished she could have gone down there at that moment and been accepted with room on the bench if such was her desired. She would have been cheered, the 'lads' as Robin called them would be proud that she was one of them, Henry would finally get her to tell somethings of what had happened since their last meeting, and knowing Roland he would probably have crawled into her lap and continued to steal food off people plates when he thought no one was looking.

Yes, she could have had all those things, yet she held herself aloof from their familiar company and warm invitation. Being the hero, being accepted without a trace of fear was… strange. Too long she had been cursed and reviled. Could their acceptance of her really be true?

"So this is where you went," Snow White piped up quietly as she slid beside Regina in the dim, dusty balcony.

Bowl of beef and barely soup in one hand, wooden spoon in the other, the tentative enemy of Regina padded up silently like a shadow to her left side. Tendrils of pale steam swirled and curled about her pallid face making her seem some sort of newly tangible ghost.

A thoughtful sigh tumbled past the exiles lips but she didn't turn to look at her step daughter. "I needed some time," she revealed freely, her words wry with hinting to be left alone. "Besides, it was strange getting toasted every five minutes. I needed room to breathe a bit."

"You deserve to be cheered, Regina." Leaning her elbows on the rail the woman blew on her soup before taking a spoonful. Casting an askance glace to the one evil queen, she flashed a half smile. "You really were a hero today. We were really in a desperate spot. You not only saved their lives you've given them something even more precious - hope."

"Please," the exile scoffed derisively. "I'm no hero and certainly no hope giver. Heroes do brave things. All I did was cast a spell." Eyes pinioned to the room, her lips twisted into a dire frown. "A hero would have saved them entirely. I helped win a battle that could very well come back to blow up in our faces, nothing more."

She didn't deserve to be called hero by any means. The war hadn't been won. What would happen if they lost anyway? She wouldn't be remembered as a hero then. No, the title hero was for those that were brave and good. Not for her.

As though reading her thoughts, Snow nodded imperceptibly. "You're afraid you won't be able to help in that way again; that this hero business will only last so far as our victories," she espied from the unspoken words that paused at the tip of Regina's waspish tongue.

"I'm not afraid." The cunning witch jerked her head to face Snow. Fury gleamed platinum specks in her whiskey eyes as she stared down the woman she had once tried to kill. "My reasons for thinking what I think are my own and the last thing I need is for miss mother of the savior herself to tell me what's going on in my own mind."

Slurping her soup calmly as though she read past Regina's paper thin wrath, the woman shrugged. "Okay, okay. I just wanted to help but we'll drop it," she offered in a conciliatory tone to her one time foe.

"Good." Her nostrils flared slightly like a dragon billowing smoke in her simmering anger. Settled, the former monarch resumed her watch of the feasting people below. A thoughtful scowl formed upon her lips as Snow's perceptive words danced through her mind. What if she couldn't save them?

Changing the dour subject as Regina requested, Snow motioned her head down to Robin Hood and Roland. "So, unless my ears deceived me I distinctly heard that little boy call you mama earlier." A slow smile blossomed tenderly on her face. "No one falls into that rank easily. What have you been up too all this time?"

A lot of things could change in half a year. Even looking at Regina she seemed a near different person from the woman who had left a banished exile. Garbed in brown and dark green yeoman wear she now sported the eye of a forester who could thrive off the bounty nature itself provided. Part of her was a completely different person unrecognizable from the haughty, dark woman who had left.

"His name's Roland, Robin Hood's son," Regina informed her softy. Her lush lips involuntarily formed into a smile at the thought of them. "After Robin took me in my banishment, Roland sort of adopted me as his mother."

A womanly conspiratorial smile slipped clandestinely unto Snow's lovely features. "And the father?" she asked almost teasingly in a sly tone. "What's with you and Robin Hood?"

Obviously there was something between them. From what she had seen in the hall from the earlier part of the day, they had some sort of special connection. Regina barely put up with those who feared and respected her, but the archer below had been brazen and cheeky and infuriating and yet there was a tether that bound them in a way that just made them seem perfect for one another.

"That's none of your business actually," Regina shot back aggressively, her voice still low. "I came up here to get away from people like you, not waste this time to talk about boys."

Snow continued nonplussed with Regina's hackles risen. She always did go on the offenses when people preyed to close to what lay in the craggy depths of her wounded heart. "He loves you. I can see it in his eyes." Cupping her hands around the warm bowl, she turned her inquisitive gaze back to Regina and banked her head curiously to the left. "The question is, do you love him?"

Love. Regina's black heart clenched insufferably at the simple word that fell so brazenly from her enemies lips. Day after day Robin extolled his ardor for her. Love tumbled from his mouth in every private rendezvous they incurred. His passion for her was plain to see, there was no way for his love to be tucked away.

But she?

Her heart fluttered in trepidation at the thought. She had yet to so proclaim her love in such a zealous manner as he. She implied her love but never so fully grasped her ardor and proclaimed all her soul aloud. Robin could have shouted his love from the very spires of the citadel. She would only have whispered.

She did love him, there was no doubt of that fire in her soul, but she kept the candle of her love trimmed and small to avoid much notice. She wanted to open to him, to so freely be by his side, but after all the troubles of love her life had wrought… old habits were hard to shake.

As she stared down, lost in thought, Henry who was playing with Roland spoke a few quick words Regina wasn't able to make out. Lifting a hand, he pointed a finger up towards her and let tiny Roland follow his hand.

Watching Henry, the boy in Robin's lap finally caught sight of her high above in the smoky balcony. A smile spread like a ray of sun over her round face as he looked up where Henry had already spied his mother. Waving a free hand, the tiny boy laughed and called aloud, "Mama!"

At the proclamation, the noble thief craned his neck up as well. A roguish grin split his face as he spotted her staring down as well. His eyes gleamed only with love for her, a love that seemed down to her very bones.

They looked at her in the way she had always wanted her family to be - happy, content, loving.

Wide smile blossoming upon her face the witch nearly lifted her hand to wave back.

Abruptly, before she could return their notice, the doors to the feasting hall slammed open. Loud thuds of riveted wood slamming into stone pounded through the air like twin drums duplicitously silencing the hearty talk about the tables.

Harsh, snowy wind hissed and bellowed into the feasting hall with the force of the blow that had opened the large twin doors, sending a gust of cold throughout the warm chamber. Bright yellowish-red torch flames danced erratically to their sides with the bullying zephyr. The flames swirled in their holders and many winked and sputtered out into thin black smoke leaving the room in even dimmer light on the winter's night.

Gray ash and snow that had recently fallen swirled in like uninvited guests and scudded at the stone of the entryway in small vortexes that piled up in the corners only to melt a moment later.

Standing at the door the Wicked Witch of the West stared inside to the ragged defenders. A fuzzy emerald scarf speckled white with already melting snow wrapped about the lower portion of her face and a long green cloak of wolf hide tinted green as well rustled down to her feet. Her hands were bound in the same sickly green of a muffler making her appear like some green devil come to life.

High stilettos clicked imperiously over the gray floor as she brazenly entered the hall amidst the frozen defenders. A few brave souls stumbled to their feet, their weapons rasping from their scabbards but all remained where they were, in no way eager to meet their enemy one on one.

"Am I late for the celebration?" she queried mockingly as she vapidly unwound the puke green scarf from her face and revealed a ruby smirk. Her light green eyes strafed over the scene of stunned defenders with a haughty glare. "Have I missed all the hip hip hoorays and three cheers for Regina?" Turning her gaze to the table where Roland, Robin, and Henry sat, she eyed the awed Henry. "Have I Henry dear?" she purred and took a step in the lad's direction.

Before she could take another step, thick amethyst smoke erupted before the vile sorceress. As the spiral of lilac magic shredded away, Regina finally faced the evil that had reined terror for what felt akin to years instead of a few short, bloody months.

Hatred glared like shards of ice in her light brown eyes. Jaw clenched fearlessly she stared down the green snake smirking before her. "Don't go near my son," she growled out dangerously, her gaze sharper than any blade in the hall.

If the Wicked Witch had been vying for a way to draw her out, she had most certainly succeeded. Even with Robin there, no one was going to touch her boys.

"Now now is that anyway to greet a guest?" An insoluble smile crept upon Zelena's ruby lips. "Your own sister no less?" She canted her head to the right like a curious, self assured child.

Murmurs rumbled like thunder behind the pair at such a daring proclamation. Only Belle had been privy to that information before and even then Regina had not believed her.

Lips twisted into a sneer, the evil queen eyed the green witch in implacable disgust. "Still spreading that particular lie I see. I'm flattered you'd like to think you share some of my blood, but I don't have a sister."

"It's no lie sis," she chuckled in vile sweetness past her ever smiling lips. "That's the truth. A truth too long hidden."

Quickly raising a hand, she plucked a strand of light brown hair from beneath her cowl. Almost regally, the sordid witch held out the singular hair to Regina like a token between her pinched fingers. "Here." She proffered the long stand freely. "See for yourself."

Suspicion liberally donned Regina's face, but she decided to take the risk. If just to prove the witch wrong. Snatching the hair up, in her right hand, she summoned a truth serum in her left. A crystal phial of translucent fluid sat half full in a curved container that appeared through a cloud of magic in her palm.

Carefully feeding the brown link into the vial, the exile watched the liquid rapaciously dissolve the strand. Tiny bubbles roiled and climbed the sides as the potion stirred to life with the hair. From clear fluid, slowly the potion transmuted to a positive green of truth instead of the negative black of a lie.

Looking into the elixir, Regina's suspicion slowly crumpled into a wave of shock. Truth? That couldn't have been….

"Oh, don't look so surprised, Regina dear," Zelena offered tauntingly in her smooth, exotic voice. "Our mother kept many secrets about her past. You don't know the half of what she kept from us."

Forcing her awe back for another time, the banished Regina composed herself in the cloak of nobility. Expertly folding her emotions away, she banished the truth elixir away from her hand and glared imperiously at her newly discovered sister. "Be that as it may, I don't think you're here to partake in a family reunion." Her eyes puckered threateningly. "What do you want?"

What in all the realms did this green freak have against her anyway? Until a moment ago, she didn't even know they were related. What did it matter that they were blood?

"Everything you ever had, Regina," Zelena clarified primly and raised her hands as though it were obvious. A sinter laugh fell insanely calm from her lips as she began to circle her sister. "I thought that was obvious from the start. The power, the magic, the will to see this kingdom ruined. Everything you ever desired."

"That's only obvious to a mad woman," Regina parried acidly, her voice matter-of-fact. "I don't need to have a reason to see that you're on a path of destruction. I meant why are you here?" The exiles eyes followed the wicked witch as far as she circled, but nothing more.

"Well when I discovered my sister had made such a glorious return I set to thinking what to do about her," she explained aloud as though he were talking to herself. "I could have turned my new pet the Dark One on you, even simply taken every monkey here and crushed this little rabble in one fail swoop if such truly suited my fancy."

She smirked as a hush of abject alarm rankled and jittered nervously through the crowd. "But no, that would get in the way of my plans for dragging this entire ordeal out. One of my weaknesses is having a passion for the dramatic. So you should be joyous that I do not come to extinguishing your lives just yet." She stopped right before Regina again as she came full circle. Pure wickedness gleamed maliciously in her eyes. "I come to extinguish your hope right here. Tomorrow at midnight, the witching hour, Regina, I call you to a magician's duel outside the gates." She neared close to her sister. "That way I can crush you for all of them to see."

Lips perched into an icy grin that failed to reach her eyes, a trite chuckle escaped the exiles mouth. "You seem confident you'll actually defeat me."

"You feel my power, Regina," the green witch oozed as though she were already victorious. "You know you can't win."

Both highly attuned to magic, Regina would have had to notice her own strength was dwarfed by the green power that all but drenched her sister's form. While they talked, their magic's tested and pressed against each other trying to discover whose was stronger and Regina's power had cowed almost instantly.

"Well we'll see about that won't we." Regina stepped closer to the witch, her grin icy as the snow outside.

A vile hum onerously tumbled from Zelena's mouth and she banked her head to the left. "Indeed we will." Giving a wink she took a step away. "See you tomorrow night sis."

Stretching her left arm out, the witch beckoned her magic to her. A green outline formed in her hand like a hazy shadow before a knobby broom stick lay in her deft malachite grasp. Hand curled over the tool she hopped unto the stick in a fashion that would have been comical had she not been so murderously threatening.

Giving another infuriating wink she did a full circle through the frightened feasting hall and headed towards the open door whence she had entered.

Not taking her eyes off her newly discovered sister, Regina studiously followed her every move until she was headed for the tall double doors. Once the flying witches back was facing her, the exile dove into action.

A smirk perched upon her lips as she called forth her power. Summoning a fireball in her right hand, Regina took a step forward. Eyes narrowed hatefully upon the back of the witch she ignobly tossed the globule of flame at the pelted back of her sister. If Zelena thought for an instant the word fair meant anything to her sister then she was oh so wrong.

"Ah, ah, ah, sis," Zelena scolded in a devious laugh.

Without turning back to see the orb of destruction headed her way, the wicked witch merely flicked a hand up a jade hand as though offering some friendless goodbye.

As the fiery orb rushed to end her life, a tangled webbed of green power eagerly snared the fiery inferno. Strands of green netted over the red ball of fire and lashed at the molten heat like tongues of coolant.

Dimming in the throes of the green tangle, the fireball flickered miserably out of existence. Only a puff of insipid gray smoke drifted behind the witch where the fireball had once been.

Surprise netted Regina's face again as the witch departed not even scorched by the ball of fire. Hand falling limply to her side, she watched until the woman, her sister no less, became but a black dot in the slanting flakes of frost before the snow veiled her departure. Disbelief expounded in her chest like a knot of icy dread. That had been one of her strongest spells and she had sundered the magic off like a cheap novices trick had gone awry.

"Regina!" Robin scrambled fervently to her side. Concern traced his face in a picture of wariness as he scanned her over. "Are you alright?"

"Do I look alright?" the witch snapped contritely and jerked her head to face him. Apology immediately softened her face at her unwarranted bite ignobly directed at him. He didn't deserve such anger that stemmed from sudden terror. "Sorry," she muttered lowly as the rest of the nobles raced up.

Slowing her pace to Regina, Emma looked at her with utmost alarm and confusion. "Sister?" the word stumbled from her lips like a question.

"Somehow," Regina sighed and tenaciously collected her composure, "Yes. The truth serum proved her right."

A sister, she shivered inwardly with the newly discovered relation. How could she possibly have had a sister?

Stoically brushing the thought aside like a minor inconvenience, she abandoned that little tidbit for the moment. "Unfortunate discovery aside, that isn't the biggest problem at present," she affirmed dryly, her lips pursed into a displeased frown. "She challenged me to a sorcerers duel."

Sorcerer's duels were the stuffs of terrifying legends. Since Merlin and mad madam Mim had had their duels, many magicians had stowed the practices away but at times the fights did arise and with incomprehensible consequences. When two mighty magicians reached an impasse that turned violent they often resorted to duels to settle their differences, often permanently.

"Can't you simply… decline?" David queried as he limped up. Now was not the time to pander to Zelena's games. They couldn't let her whittle away at them again as she had for so long now.

The exile shrugged helplessly as though she had already weighed the option. "I could, but the laws of sorcery states that if one refuses the duel the other is immediately inferior to the challenger. Secondly," her lips pursed unpleasantly, "She'll probably just kill us all if I don't. We don't have a choice at the moment. If she wants to play games then we'll have to play them."

"Maybe this could work in our favor," Robin suggested thoughtfully, though his eyes still scanned her for harm, "Perhaps with you battling her that enough to keep her occupied while we rally to attack her."

Wry, mirthless laughter escaped Regina's lips at the brave but foolish thought. "If that was the case she would merely kill all who dared to interfere. I know," her voice dropped icily with a hint of sorrow, "because that's what I would do."

"So, you're just going to have a duel with her on her terms?" Henry asked dubiously.

A soft smile twitched upon Regina lips as she turned to her son. "I don't have much choice." She laid a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder. "But don't fear. This wicked witch doesn't have a clue whose she's dealing with," she assured strongly, hoping he would buy her lie.

What Zelena had whispered to her was true though she couldn't let them know. As they looked towards her with such hope, the truth stuck like a boulder in her throat. She couldn't tell them the devastating news, she couldn't let their hopes fail so quickly with what she knew on the inside.

For all her self assured smiles and icy retorts one thing was true - Zelena's power was far greater than hers.


	20. Having Hope

Deep lilac hued magic curled and wove sinuously about Regina's right hand like pleased serpents once more with their master grip as the restored witch focused on her power. Standing by her lonesome in a barren, gray stone chamber of the armory, the witch invited the magic into the core of her very being. Magic pumped hotly through her veins and burned like molten lead through her heart with each breathless moment that passed with the magic so fully ingrained in her.

Head slightly tilted to the stone ceiling, her rich chocolate eyes closed as though caught in some mystical rapture. Expertly, she toyed with the power like an amiable cat that wanted its sleek coat scratched and she only too readily obliged to coax the power to its fullest.

Snapping her right hand out and jerking her head aright all in the same moment, the witch let her power fly. Sparks flickered intrepidly at her fingertips before jolts of flame erupted from each delicate digit. Lines of hot, bright yellow flame billowed from her hand in gouts that could have easily turned an entire band of warriors into illuminate pillars of fire before melting them into ash.

Scorch marks licked up the gray walls and streaked them with lines of coaly black from the bite of her magic as the power funneled through her. Not many things in the world could stand the magnitude of such a force of magic.

Satisfied with the last spell in her immense repertoire, the witch cut off the power to the spell with but a second hand thought. Immediately, the lines of flickering flames dissipated in a pittance of oily gray smoke that wisped and coiled lazily through the air. The scent of cinders wafted from the pads of her fingers but nary another sign gave hint there had been an inferno a moment earlier.

A grim smile adorned her face as her eyes scanned the damage done. The floor and the walls were now indelibly lashed with black marks like dragon talons dragged down the room. The porous stone itself sloped and curved in places her magical fire had actually melted the very rock.

No, she admittedly inwardly, not many things indeed could stand before her magic and survive.

At the thought of such inordinate power, a sigh displeasingly fell from her mouth. Slowly a sorrowed frown captured her smile, dragging her mood down with the edges of her lips. With the crescendo of her might, that last spell would have to do. And if that didn't work then well….

"Last minute practice?" Robin asked tentatively from behind her. Nimbly, the thief stole through the partially closed door and padded towards the love of his life. A soft smile touched his lips in the eternal boyish but gentle charm he carried about his being.

Without bothering to look back, the witch shrugged plaintively. Curling her hand into a fist, she stared at the appendage like a pitifully insufficient weapon. "I thought a little refresher wouldn't hurt." She upturned her sad gaze as he came to stand before her. Managing a faint smile, she suppressed the worry that dogged her soul. "How's Roland? All tucked away?" she queried softly, her heart searching for a small ray of light to glow through the black damper of clouds that molested her stoic heart.

"Not at all pleased." Tender laughter slipped past his half smiling mouth. "I thought for certain I would have to keep the door locked for him not to escape no matter how many times I told him he couldn't stay up to watch. He was fiercely adamant in his wish to see his mama oh so grandly use her purple smoke to justly trounce the nasty green lady."

Indeed, the boy had been a slippery handful in his desire to scale the rampart with his father and watch the duel. He had begged and cajoled and pleaded, even tried to bribe with a honey sticky copper coin he had secreted away, but they had decided the last thing he needed was to watch Regina in peril. They had taken him to bed two hours after the sun had set and despite his promise to stay up and wait for everyone to leave so he could sneak out and watch the fight anyway, he was sound asleep deep in the castle in a warm straw bed with fluffy feather pillow under his mop of untamed hair.

A mirthless breath of laughter escaped past Regina's once more frowning lips. The boy was absolutely precious and incorrigible all at the same time. "I'm glad someone is so self assured in my victory."

To the rest of them, her victory was a tossup, but she knew oh so well how one sided the fight would truly be. Only she knew how ill prepared and miniscule her power was compared to Zelena's own. They all thought she had some sort of sporting chance, but there was no way her powers could hold a candle to Zelena's sinister magic's.

Even still, she had not had the courage to tell any of them she was walking to the slaughter. They needed hope. Better that they thought she could stand toe to toe with her erroneous sister and had merely perished by a clever trick than let them know Zelena's power was too great and have every speck of their tenuous faith crushed beneath her green heel.

As such she had given no indication to anyone she was worried about the duel. All the day she had acted and spoke in her usual icy tone and stared with her usual stony glare. She had not even said a proper goodbye to Roland; only as he went to bed she gave him one last great hug and reminded him to listen to his father.

With the power the Wicked Witch had at her disposal there wasn't much hope she would ever see any of them again. If she could, she would try with all her might to take the green witch out with her, but that was a far as triumph, her vision could see.

"I have no doubt in my mind you will come out the winner," the thief gently assured his love. "Have hope, Regina. You can beat her."

Deep in the black recesses of her heart, her pain cried out and lowed in bitterest agony. Oh if only he knew. But no, he most of all could not know. He would try to be chivalrous and save her. Better the pain come unexpected than imminent like an execution.

Softly laying a hand over his heart she heaved another sigh. "Hope is a hard thing to have right now," she repaid forlornly with a lugubrious twitch of the lips. Looking into his eyes she stoically dammed the tears she felt burn her eyes away. "But hope or not," she stated strongly, "It's time."

As the words fell from her lips, the muffled peal of the hour bell tolled like a pained bellow throughout the citadel. Twelve times the plaintive voice of the bell reverberated out across the land and into the very bowels of the keep to tell that the midnight hour had come.

There would be no more time for practice or thoughts. The duel time had arrived.

"I love you," Robin proclaimed tenderly and lightly kissed her lips, eagerly filling the scant breaths of time they still shared.

Breathlessly taken up by his lovely display of affection, Regina savored the moment for a hearts beat before she backed away from the gentle touch of his lips and his ardor. "I…," she nearly reciprocated his words but paused them before they fell from her lips. Closing her mouth she managed a small, wavering smile.

Better those words stay with her before she met her end. Perhaps her death would be easier on him that way. Perhaps if he didn't hear those same words sail from her lips the pain would hurt less than if those where the last words he heard from her.

Slowly turning away, the evil queen refused to look back as she headed out the door and too the duel that awaited her.

~8~8~

A thin smile donned Regina's lips as she stood outside the snow capped white gates of the Charming's castle. Clad in her brown and green forester's cloak, she stood in defiance to the chilled world, a singular dark flame in a sea of white.

Frigid wind that hadn't let up since the day before playfully tousled her raven hair against her cheeks in the erratic breath of frost as she stood motionlessly before the world. Her eyes narrowed thinly against the bitter bite and snowflakes spotted her long lashes as she numbly scanned the realm.

The snow had fallen all night and all the day leaving the ivory banks calf high. All about the world was a white, undulating plain that covered the land like a sheet over old furniture. The ramparts of the castle were piled high with snow like neat icing on a stale cake.

Above, the moon was a milky, clipped disk in the clear onyx sky. Bluish gray moonbeams danced gaily upon the world, alighting the satin night with the gleam of silver upon the white, glistening snow so that all the world seem kilned in the sheen of white.

The night would have been a beautiful court for young lovers to share their ardor in secretive whispers and crunch an ambling path through the snow hand in hand had not there been so much at stake and one death so very nigh.

Behind her and high above, the ramparts were stuffed with warriors who had gathered to see the duel. All the nobles, a great many fighters, Henry, and all the merry men including Robin packed the ramparts so the that top of the wall looked like a wall of black compared to the shining white of the walls and snow.

Weapons all lingered tightly in their hands just in case they were called upon at a moment's notice. Torches that flickered and guttered in their holders winked flashes of steel in the night like stars come down from the firmament, telling the silent tale of their preparedness. If Zelena was planning to play any tricks then they were all too ready for her.

"Grand you all decided to show," Zelena's voice filled the peaceful winter's night with her taunting timbre. The cold, crisp wind seemed to carry her voice along the untarnished snow and through the barren, heavy trees making her tone seem as though it came from every direction.

Tendrils of green smoke spiraled up from the snow ten feet before Regina in the proper steps apart for such a magical duel. Swirling in a deep emerald cyclone that carried aloft the witch, the smoke suddenly shredded away in the silvery-alabaster night revealing Zelena in all her wicked glory.

Head doffed in a black satin, conical hat that was tipped cockily to the right and clad all in black leather trimmed with fur, the witch cut a prim, regal picture that Regina would have once cast before her banishment. Her skin that showed between the raiment gleamed a smooth porcelain pea hue in the bright night light, turning her into a hard contrast of color in the platinum midnight.

Hands curled at her side, the wicked witch confidently sashayed a few paces towards Regina. Green steam wisped up from her fists as though she held fire in her tight grip. "First." She flickered her jade gaze up to the walls. "No interruptions."

Nodding almost imperceptibly, she endowed a spell upon the onlookers, freezing them where they stood.

Summoned forth from her magic before any of them could move, a silver shimmer of light glossed over the defenders and froze them into place where they stood. Only their eyes blinked in rapid panic, telling the tale they were still people and not statues.

With that done, the Wicked Witch turned her full attention back to her foe. A tauntingly considerate tone laced her voice to mock the concern of a caring sibling. "I know the hours late so I'll make this quick. Ready sis?" she asked in a bite of mocking laughter.

Without replying, Regina raised her right hand outward towards the witch as though to slap her. Her strike never came close as already, the green snake teleported back to her original ten paces.

Not deterred in the least, Regina forced magic to her call. Her fingers twitched in silent rhythm to a spell to hold the witch and keep her pinned long enough to get a good few shots in.

Immediately, dark roots planted deep from some old, forgotten tree exploded threateningly from the snow covered ground at her behest. Their pointed tips swayed in the cold air like cobras with prey in their sight. As they moved to strike, a flurry of snow bellowed up like a geyser momentarily adumbrating the green witch and the roots from view.

A sharp smile drew upon Regina's lips but fell almost in the same instant for as the snow whisked away by the wind, the roots were reveled frozen and taken by Zelena's power in a tinge of not purple but vile green.

Surprise flickered upon Regains' face at the utterly impossible circumstance. Not only had Zelena stopped the roots she had dispelled her magic and had taken the spell upon herself, something only a sorcerer with extra ordinary power could accomplish with such ease.

"Really? Roots?" a smirk wove upon the Wicked Witch's grass colored visage. "That's the best you could think of? I'm almost insulted."

Flourishing her hand lazily through the air, she dispelled the magic from the roots as though they were trinkets she found displeasing. As the green power faded from the roots, the gnarled wooded cords tensed for a moment before falling like dead snakes to the snow.

Despite their ineffectiveness, the roots had proved a valuable decryption of magical revelation - Zelena was stronger than any had ever imagined.

Snow crunching softly under her boots, the green sorceress motioned a beckoning hand to herself as she prowled forward. "Come on, sis. You can do better," she taunted cruelly, her mouth perched into a vile grin.

Calling forth an array of fireballs, Regina sent the flaming projectiles towards her sister.

Molten orbs of brimstone sailed towards the witch like miniature comets streaking through the air. The time for pacing and build up was done, Regina's heart warned perilously. She had to toss her mightiest spells or be destroyed without giving her last gift of hope to the defenders.

Raising her hand again, Zelena swiped at each of the globes of flame as though they were gnats aimed for her face. Each bright flame sharply flickered their iridescent glow across her jade face for a moment before landing away.

The fierce hiss of flame striking snow pierced angrily through the air like a nest of adders as each ball of flame landed in a bank of frost. Creamy pale steam swirled up to the sky as holes of melted snow pockmarked the once serene night.

Standing her ground, Regina felt helplessness take her. They had been dueling for not five minutes and her blasted sister had not only not attacked, she had deflected some of her most powerful spells. If she hadn't truly believed that her fate was at the frayed end of its cord before, certainly she believed now.

Coming ever closer, the wicked witch's smile grew into a devilish grin. Once face to face with Regina she let forth a sinister chuckle of triumph. Pallid white vapors ribboned from her mouth as she stared victory at the less powerful Regina.

Another bolt of power pulsed through Regina, but Zelena forced her power down almost with a physical strength. If she wished, she could have suppressed Regina's magic at the start.

"I told you you couldn't beat me," she all but crooned at her bereft adversary. "Lifting her hand once again, she placed her index finger over Regina's heart. "Looks like you lose, sis."

With that last word, the only power Zelena had deemed to used erupted forth. Darkness sparked through Zelena's fingertip like a stroke of lightning to her sister. Conjuring her power, she pulsed a singular dark spell through Regina.

A strobe of reddish-jade light flashed from betwixt them then faded away with the acrid stench of dried blood and Zelena's power.

A gasp heaved sharply from Regina's mouth as the power struck straight through all her defenses. Out of all the protection spells, all the wards, all the enchantments she had placed to guard over herself, the power of her sister zapped through her like a blow of a blade to unprotected flesh.

Of all the things she could protect against there was one that was nearly impossible to defend from - blood magic.

Grabbing the front of Regina's tunic, the witch pulled her struck sister close until she could whisper into her ear. "From me to you, sister," Zelena purred delectably into Regina's ear. "A nice little spell that will make you suffer every last waking moment until your final breath crawls from your shriveled lungs. Which, if you hadn't guessed by the spell, won't be that far away."

Powerless to reply the exile merely guttered a faint cry, her throat too dry for much else. Terror swelled in her eyes, replacing her pupils with black dots that spread to the rest of her eye like a disease.

Unable to fight back she merely stood as the magic began to course like fire through her body. Her blood boiled in her veins and her nerves wracked with unfathomable agony. In her mind she felt her will, her hope, her faith all become strangled by the strange power Zelena had endowed upon her.

Victorious, the wicked sorceress cruelly pushed the numb Regina back. A satisfied smirk pulled upon he lips as her nemesis fell heavily to the snow in a defeated heap. Flakes spewed up from where she landed in a little flurry of frost but no more movement stirred from the defeated Regina.

"Look upon your hope now." She turned her head up to the stunned fighters upon the ramparts. "There goes your last chance." Looking down, her lips crafted into a malicious smirk. "And she knows so too."

Sinter laughter smoothing from her lips she disappeared into a puff of swamp green smoke leaving the defenders housed upon the walls and a defeated Regina shivering against the ample snow and bone chilling wind.

Terror painted Robin's face as he felt the magic Zelena had shackled upon his body release him. Before his mind could even catch up to his newly unfettered body he found himself leaping down the stone stairs towards the gates.

His lungs burned as he trudged through the snow and tried hard not to slip upon slick stone, but that all paled to what he felt for the woman who lay motionless in the snow. His heart slammed crazily against his chest as though the organ would rip out from his torso and run to her because his legs moved too slow.

"Regina!" he fearfully yelled her name against the fierce wind.

Forcing the gate open the bandit stole out zealously into the frigid tundra. Snow spewed in clumps behind him as he raced with all worldly power to the fallen love of his life.

Falling next to her left side, he checked her over to see that magic the Wicked Witch had wrought. His rough hands ghosted over her as though he would come across from physical wound he could mend yet her body remained untouched.

Unconscious, Regina lay as though dead. Strands of her silky black hair lay upon her cheek in a way Robin knew she would have moved had she had the power. Head pillowed in a bank of snow she gave almost no hint that she was still in the realm of the living. Eyes closed, her body felt colder than the snow about her when he touched her exposed flesh. Only a thin tendril of vapor slipped from her mouth, letting the eye tell she was indeed alive, if barely.

Horror swarmed in Robin's brain as he looked upon her. He had thought only his son could make him feel such terror when he was in danger. Oh but by all the deities how wrong he was!

Fear fully ensorcelled his heart like an oily shroud that turned the world dark. The panic he felt for her, pierced his lungs and denied him breath and yet ached as though he inhaled the cold air. Looking down upon her, he felt hysteria and disbelief all at once. She couldn't be hurt, she simply couldn't be.

Shaking his debilitating terror away the thief burst into action to combat his fear and scooped his love up from the snow. Carrying her bridal style in his arms, he walked carefully toward the gate to not jar her possibly injured body. His arms quivered in the bitter cold as he held her limp body close to his chest for warmth.

Looking down helplessly upon her still form, he felt his heart sundered in twain. How many times had those now unmoving lips form words to scold him or purse into a sweet kiss? How many times had her fingers trailed against his prickly jaw or traced a pattern on the back of his hand? How many times had her lovely eyes exclaimed her love; eyes that refused to open of their own volition now with the accursed Wicked Witches power endowed upon her?

Haggard breath billowed from his mouth like the prayers rambling through his head with each step. His eyes frantically searched her for any signs of strength. Only the thin stream of milky silver that slipped from her barely opened lips whispered that not all was lost.

"The gates!" someone from above roared but the archer barely heard.

All the world seemed far away and out of focus to his aggrieved senses. The cold sting of the snow felt akin to nothing upon his exposed skin. The sharp bite of the wind merely tossed his hair and didn't freeze his body. Even the cries of those upon the ramparts were muffled. All his sense only stayed rapt upon her.

Slowly the doors creaked open a crack to allow them entry from the cold and the lingering essence of defeat. Eyes only for her, he lumbered inside the safety of the gates as though some intangible hand pushed his frozen body forward.

Concerned faces of merry men all clustered about the injured Regina in a node of fear. Regina angry was frightening, but Regina at deaths doors was terrifying.

"Mom," Henry stammered out in abject disbelief. He shoved through the crowd of rough woodsmen and stared down in horror. "Mom!" he all but roared in frantic desperation as his mind roved through what the witch had possibly done to her.

"The fairies are coming to help!" David announced to those that had gathered around Regina. "Give them room!"

Slowly looking up, his face the image of misery incarnate, the archer stared pleadingly to the velveteen night as the two tiny bodies of the fairies came into view then hovered before him. Like colorful stars, the two fairies floated serenely in their quest to aid Regina. Blue and green, the Blue fairy and Tinkerbell flapped inches above Regina's face, their light casting a green and blue glow across her pallid, unmoving visage.

Swallowing hard to hold back the utter disparity in his voice, the thief stared upon them pleadingly. Agony swathed his face in a picture of torments with each burning breath that shuddered from his lungs. "Please, can you help her?"

Expertly scanning her gaze over the unconscious witch, the blue fairy compassionately tossed her head, her mouth a sorrowfully regretful line. "We cannot. This is neither good nor bad power but blood magic. No one but kin have the power to remove such magic's. What spell the Wicked Witch has preformed is a blood magic spell of the highest order not from the outside, but from the inside. It's like a poison you see. Somewhere inside there is a dark magic… taint bestowed upon her by Zelena. She either has to fight the magic head on or…."

"She dies," Robin filled in haggardly, his voice choked with tears. Blinking rapidly to fight his agony, he clutched her tighter to his flagging heart. "Isn't there anyway? Anything that can be done?"

Blue paused, her mind spinning through the annals of information at her behest. "While blood magic is strong, this sort of magic is not undefeatable. The magic disease works by slowly taking hope and in so life away. If you can somehow remind her to fight, to stay on, the illness will dissipate by dawns first light."

"Then I will," Robin swore stubbornly as he moved through the crowed with his love. "By all my life I will."

"Wait." Henry ran behind and placed a hand on Robin's shoulders. As the thief partially turned around, a worried, thin smile came upon his lips. "Take care of her, please. She's my mom, please take care of her."

Grim determination painted upon his features, the archer nodded stoically. "I'll do my best for her, Henry."

If there was hope she would live then that was all he needed. Unless the fates take him, he would not rest until either she became well or the last breath fled his body.

Bringing her into the keep the archer made straighten way for the nearest empty room. A small registers room for guards stood unattended and he immediately took the chamber as his own.

The room was a small, cozy place for on duty guardsmen to relax when not patrolling the keep. A small fireplace popped happily in the gray stone hearth and a slew of dusty records sat in niches and on tables.

Placing Regina down on the woven red rug by the fire, he got to work immediately to preserve her life. Throwing every log he could unto the fire so that the blaze swirled, he conjured the small, pleasant fire into an inferno.

His first task was to see her warmed, and yet no matter how hot the room, she shivered as though in the midst of a blizzard. Her pallid skin was cold to the touch and her lips sported a cyanotic tint.

Rubbing her hands, speaking her name, her son's name and even Roland's name proved a failure to rouse her from the curse. He shouted and whispered and wept, but no matter what he did, to show he was there, she was not responding.

"Come on, Regina," he murmured almost in a prayer as the hours ticked by. "I know you know that I'm here. I know you know that people who love you need you."

Somehow, if she could just know he was nearby that she was safe, perhaps she could see through whatever Zelena had bestowed upon her.

Looking at her hopefully, he tried to search for a sign of life from her comatose state. His eyes desperately scanned her closed orbs searching for moment. His thumb pressed against her pulse hoping the beat would leap. He even strained his ears for a different sound in her breathing.

Nothing.

Sigh of defeat inordinately slipping past his lips, he turned away and looked into the fire. Dejectedly, he raked a rough hand through his hair and held back a cry of hopelessness. Perhaps the fairy was right, perhaps all was-

Abruptly he felt a chilled hand curled about his right arm. Looking down, he saw her fingers clutched tightly over his tattooed limb.

Her thumb traced blindly over the black mark with a familiar ease. Her blue lips quivered faintly as her mouth moved to some silent words. Though she shouldn't have been she was finally responding to him.

"Yes," Robin urged, elated by such simple gestures. "Fight, Regina. You're always so strong. Fight please." Turning to her fully, he grasped the hand that had clamped upon his arm.

Mouth scarcely moving, a rasp managed to steal from her lips. "So… cold. Drowning," she extolled in a deathly whisper.

"No you're not." The thief moved behind her and pressed his body close so that his body warmed her. "I'm right here." Holding her tight, he buried his face into the crook of her neck. "Hang on Regina," he compelled in gentle encouragement in her ear. "All is not lost. Where there is love there is hope."

If she was talking perhaps she was winning her fight. Perhaps she would live. If he could just let her no she was there and not falling, not drowning, if he could just make her follow his voice.

"N-…no," she muttered deliriously. Her body shivered lightly with the cold that seemed to cling to her very bones. "I… no love for me. I don't deserve…. Not again." Her features twitched and wrinkled as though deep in nightmare. "Wasn't meant for man with tattoo. Gave love up… don't deserve second chance."

Confusion pressed at the archer's heart but he denied the sensation. Whatever she meant in her accursed magical fever would simply have to stay a mystery.

Holding her ever tighter, he whispered encouragement until the first rays of dawn glimmered through the frosted window.

~8~8~

An odd peace drifted pleasantly through Regina's body as she awoke from her curse. Her eyes fluttered open slowly to look upon a cozy, metallic smelling room. A low fire swirled bits of smoke up the flue and the smell of brown granules of dust tickled her nose, threatening to make her sneeze.

The occurrences of the nights duel flooded through her mind, but her heart remained at ease even in the turmoil of the moment. The witch had placed an inward dark magic illness upon her but she had managed to live.

Because of him.

Breathing in deep the woman opened her eyes fully and stared at what lay directly before her. The sleeve of Robin's arm had been pulled up leaving the black lion tattoo open to her view.

A soft hint of laughter breathed quietly from the witch at the sight. Fingers a-tremble, she glided the pads of her digits over the outline of the lion rampant. How different she saw the tattoo now from the first time she had catch eye of the marking. How different her feelings towards the man with the tattoo when first she spied the art in the forest.

"Regina?" A sleepy voice behind her asked tentatively.

Tensing instinctively, only then Regina realized she was being held. All through the night, the bandit had not left her side. In her fogged mind she could remember all he had done with a clear picture that she hadn't been able to break through much the night before.

He had spoken every word of encouragement he could fathom and not slept once to see her alive.

Slowly he had coaxed her from the quicksand of despair that would have claimed her life. He had showed that his love was eternal, that his passion was not a thing so soon to be taken. His hope had buoyed both of them and kept her alive.

Weakly turning to him, she flashed a wane, nearly sleepy smile to the archer. Placing a warm hand on his rough cheek, she sighed out a minuscule laugh of utmost joy. "Robin Hood have I told you that I love you?"

"You don't have too," he replied gently with a relived smile. "I know without you saying so aloud. I knew even in the curse that plagued you, your love for me was a tether that bound us."

Searching his eyes, she felt heat rise to her cheeks. "Do… do you know why I was talking about your tattoo last night?"

Though bringing up the tattoo was perhaps not the best moment, her courage was bolstered by the light that now filled her now that the darkness had fled and hope remained. All her trepidation was gone now with the curse Zelena had sundered upon her. She couldn't wait, she had to take the chance and to fie with the consequences.

"I wondered," he admitted freely, "But you could have talked about anything if you were just to keep living."

Wrapping her fingers about the collar of his tunic, she held him tight as though he would suddenly fall away. "It wasn't just anything," she explained quietly, her voice tremulous. "Before I was the evil queen I was led to a tavern by Tinkerbell. She had stolen some dust that would help me find my true love," she explained bravely for the first time. "I was supposed to go inside but I… I was a coward. I had no hope love could ever be for me again so I didn't enter. The only thing I ever saw of him was a lion tattoo," she explained tremulously.

Finally, her entire being shuddered, finally what so dogged her heart lay bare before him.

"You…," he paused in utter shock. "You mean me?"

She nodded, tears forming in her umber orbs. "Yes. Destiny designed us for one another. That's why you helped me out of this magic. You and I are meant for each other. Our hearts are one; our love is a whole with us together." She clasped his hands with her trembling ones. "Now that I have seen the kind of man you are and feel what my heart feels for you, one of my biggest regrets is not walking through that door and finding you. I don't want fear, darkness, anything to get between that again. So when all of this is over. Robin Hood, would you marry me?"

If she was expressing all her love, she might as well go all the way, she considered half fearfully and half joyfully.

All the love into the world gleamed like diamonds in the thief's bright eyes. Clasping her hands tight between them, he nodded slowly, his eyes never parting from hers. "Why your majesty I thought you would never ask your lowly backwoodsman," he laughed happily. "Yes, I will. But." His brow wrinkled into lines of curiosity. "Why wait?"

"Because," Regina laughed and bushed a hand against his dusky brown hair. "I want to wait until I complete the plan to defeat my sister," she revealed freely without the slightest hint of doubt.

A look of surprise splashed across his face. "You… you've figured out how to beat her?"

"On the contrary," she nearly purred, her smile sly. "She figured it out for me. Blood magic is a two way street. If she can use that sort of power to slip past all my magic, all my wards, then so can I."


	21. Blood Magic

_A/N: Not going to lie this was a little rushed. I start summer math classes today so I'm trying to wrap my head around a language I don't even understand... T.T_

**~8~8~**

Cold morning sun slipped through the grand windows bringing a frosty brilliance to the filled room. The snow added another sheen to the light making the stuffy room seem almost aglow.

Joy blossomed like fresh spring in Regina's long frozen heart as she stood amongst the leaders of the defense. Happiness surged from two fonts from her battered soul. Robin Hood was to be her husband and Zelena was to be but a grass stain if her plan succeeded the way she wished.

"Blood magic," the exile explain confidently with a sly grin penned upon her lips, "That's how we're going to defeat her."

Since her time with Robin Hood early in the morning hours she had worked out all the details in her mind. The ends and outs had been considered and maneuvered and tweaked until the plan was so very nearly perfect… nearly.

Fine lines of incredulity wrinkled Emma's frowning face. "You mean the same magic she used on you?"

"The very same, Miss Swan." Her smile grew primly cold for a moment before the warmth reentered her grin. Hands on the round table the rest of them sat behind, she leaned forward to her fellow conspirators. "You see Blood Magic is a peculiar sort of power. When someone uses Blood Magic on an item or in a spell they expect that spell to be near invulnerable, but, no magic is flawless and in this case Blood Magic has a major weakness. You see if the person who used Blood Magic has another of their kin, their blood, they can bypass and use such magic's as they will."

Blood Magic could be used for a host of different things. A rich noble could order his court wizard to enchant his own blood to keep things for or away from kin, or even use such spells to make certain their linages stayed pure.

Shaking her head faintly, Snow leaned back in her ornate high backed chair. Confusion twinkled in her eyes as she canted her head to the left. "But you did use magic against her. You flung enough fireballs at her to burn up a village."

"That wasn't Blood Magic that was just my normal magic," Regina explained wryly and flickered an indissolubly cool glance to her step daughter. "The spell Zelena placed on me was carefully prepared. I have to do different incantations in order to produce a Blood Magic spell." Casting her umber gaze about once more, a vengeful smile pulled upon her lush mouth. "But once I do, she won't have any power that can stop such a spell. Powerful or not, everyone has to abide by the laws of Blood Magic."

All the magic in the world couldn't stop a Blood Magic spell against kin.

Abruptly her smile darkened like the sun hidden behind a midden mast of black clouds. "There is just one problem," she admitted lowly.

"There always is." Emma's shoulders sank dejectedly as she slid like a petulant child in her seat. A morose sigh slumped past her frowning lips as she looked up dourly to the witch. "What's the problem?"

"I don't know how I'm going to hit her with the spell." She compressed her lips thoughtfully almost as though she mused to herself. "Zelena isn't stupid. She'll have probably made some recourse if I decided to use Blood Magic. A spell straight to her won't work. Another caveat of Blood Magic is contact. You can't just fling that sort of power about like fire balls or freezing spells if so there would be too many problems in far too many places. Blood Magic has to be endowed upon something; your body, an icon…-"

"A weapon?" David interposed and leaned forward with an air considering in his chair. Rubbing his prickly, unshaven chin, he flicked his steely gaze up to the exile. "Will a weapon work?"

Glaring under her long sable lashes, the witch nodded. "Yes and no," she affirmed in prim hesitation. "You see, imbuing a weapon with Blood Magic is simple, so yes that could work, but it won't work because she's not going to let me get close enough to actually hit her with some weapon."

Therein lied the last kernel of the rather thought out plan. The weapon had to make contact, but if Zelena just started teleporting all over the place whilst she called in her army of monkeys then that would do no good. As long as the magic didn't touch her she was safe but there were so many ways for her to avoid such a nominal ploy.

"And that's where I come in." Robin brazenly forced open the door to the council chamber. Confidently striding in, he lazily twirled a set of tarnished silver keys on his index finger that he had filched off a guard at the lower case of the steps outside.

Despite their love, Regina was still adamant he not attend the meetings in case he got some sort of noble, sacrifice or danger in his head.

Apparently, he chuckled inwardly, she had been right on the money.

Turning to her entire body to the door, the witch scowled angrily at the wily archer. Wrath bickered like brown flames in her glassy umber depths towards him. "First, why don't you ever listen when I ask you to not ease drop, and second." She crossed her arms angrily and snorted, "Whatever you're thinking is out of the question."

"I have the answer to your problem." He flashed a sly wink and drew an eagle feathered arrow as he stepped to where his love stood. Holding the projectile straight, he closed his left eye and examined the straightness of the shaft as he spoke. "Endow the Blood Magic to these and our problems are solved. I'll come with you, you distract her and I fill her with arrows."

That had been the first plan that had entered his mind as he disobediently leaned against the cold door with his ear pressed against the gold key hole. If Regina stole the Wicked Witches attentions, then if he were to fire an arrow from a place she was not expecting they could end her in a heartbeat.

Blinking rapidly at him, an irascible scoff sailed from her mouth. "Have you gone deaf from the door to where you're standing now?" she bit furiously, her eyes flashing pernicious rage mingled with fear. Angrily stomping towards him, she jerked the arrow out of his hands. "Out. Of. The. Question," she forced every word like a hammer driving in a nail from her clenched jaw.

Zelena was too dangerous. Where she even was would be a problem. Who knew, she could be in a cave guarded by a thousand monkeys! Getting to her would be a leap towards the cold arms of death, how greater still would they have to deny the pull of demise?

Completely at ease, the thief unsheathed his bow. "Is it out of the question because it's a bad plan or you fear this undertaking will finish our wedding plans before they even get underway?" He placed both hands on the tip of his bow like a knight would a blade and eyed her in his infuriatingly easy demeanor.

They couldn't allow Zelena to roam free because they were afraid the other might perish. If they had a way to defeat her then they needed to undertake the challenge, mortal peril, unhappiness, or not. Too much lay at stake for them to toss out recourses simply because of the thought of death.

Staring from witch to thief, a look of surprise painted Snow's lovely visage. Had he just said something about being wed? "Marriage?" the word fumbled like a foreign phrase from her mouth.

Lips compressed to a thin line, Regina's eyes narrowed caustically at the bandit. "We're basing the fate of the realms on your ability to hit her with a pointy stick!" she cut venomously. "One has nothing to do with the other," she paused and looked away to deny him the chance to see past her masks of falsehood. "And if we should fail have no doubt we will not come back. Roland needs one parent."

How could she in good conscience leave with him knowing there was a chance Roland would lose Robin? If she perished Henry was surrounded by family, blood family, Roland would have no one.

"When did you two decide to get married?" Emma asked disbelievingly. Mouth partially opened she simply blinked at the both of them as her mind tried to wrap around the vastly unexpected news.

"I never miss, Regina," Robin stated matter-of-factly. "Since the day I have held this bow I have never missed. Never. And I agree, Roland needs a parent, he needs both of them, actually, but every day that witch is on the loose he's in peril of losing us both." A hint of pleading gleamed in his chestnut eyes. "Don't you want to walk down the aisle knowing you don't have to look up to the sky to see a flying monkey or fear when the witch plans to ruin your life? Do you want possible children we may have to cower in despair because a Wicked Witch might snatch them up?"

David shook his head in abject confusion. "What aisle? What children? Does Henry know?"

Gaze softening, her scowl slowly disintegrated into a plaintive frown. "Of course I don't want that, but I also don't want to lose you, you insufferable backwoodsman," Regina snapped irreparably to conceal the weakness she felt rise in the back of her throat.

Couldn't he see he meant to much to put him in such peril?

"And you won't," the thief returned gently. "But we can't let fear fetter us. We need to take this risk."

As much as she hated to admit his words had validity. She knew what he spoke was truth from the very base of her torn soul. Two of them would have to go and try to find the chink in Zelena's armor. There could be no other way.

Oh but the threat of losing him cut to her very heart. Icy talons of fear wrenched and strangled her will to see them go. How could she go through with the plan with that lingering thought prowling her mind?

Eyes strafing away, her mouth tugging lightly to the side, a sigh tumbled dourly form her mouth. "You're right. This might be the only way. This can't be a one person job." Nudging her chin to the door, her frowned deepened. "Meet me in the guard house, I'll set up what we need to do from there."

"I knew you'd understand." A gentle smile curled upon his mouth. Placing a rough, bow calloused hand on her shoulder, he leaned in and stole a light kiss upon her lips before backing away.

Umber orbs alight, the witch watched as he backed away and disappeared through the doors. Love and fear and passion and terror swept her heart in a hurricane of roiling emotions. Her soul felt as though in a knot pulsated in her chest and she couldn't decide if the emotion was a heartening or desperate feeling.

Shaking her head, she turned back to the nobles about the table. Instinctively, the exile took a step back as she saw all eyes riveted upon her. Shock donned all their faces in irrepressible emotions. Disapproval, surprise, happiness, acceptance all stamped their faces in different turns, telling what swirled so close to their tongues.

Icily steeling her jaw, the witch glared at them all defiantly. Hands curled at her sides she fought hard not to simply walk away from them. "What?" she growled out, daring a mutter of opposition.

"Regina…." Snow slowly rose from her chair. Face aglow with serene happiness she rounded the table and wrapped the woman in a hug.

Taken aback, the exile looked at the hugging woman in surprise and stony disapproval. "Why are you hugging me?" she demanded imperiously, her voice ready to bite like a wary animal.

"You're getting married." Snow squeezed tightly. "Why didn't you tell us?"

Even in the times of trouble, that was news for celebration. Life had all but halted in the kingdom since Zelena arrived. A marriage could stir the masses and encourage them to believe things were changing.

Pushing her at arm's length, the exile studied the gladdened Snow. Confusion and disgust hinted at the edge of her mouth. "Because you banished me to a life of misery and we aren't friends." Quietly she added, "And I asked him last night."

Did they really think they had any right to know any of her personal life? They hadn't cared what she did in the forest, cold and hungry and alone, why care now that she was to be wed to Robin?

Sadness flickered over Snow's features at the mention of what they had done. Her smile faltered for a moment before she stalwartly bolstered her grin. "Last night?" she echoed then nodded her head. "Congratulations, Regina, I wish you all the happiness in the world."

"He could have done better if you ask me," Grumpy grumbled disgruntledly and crossed his arms like a petulant child.

"Grumpy," David replied, his tone scolding. "That's not polite."

"But he's right," Regina interjected wryly. Backing away from Snow, she stared at them all again. Chin held high, she blinked back the tears that crystallized in her whisky eyes. "He could have done so much better, but he said yes, and now we're going to finish this, win the day, and I will finally have my happy ending."

Without another word, the witch turned and walked away leaving the room in a state of silent awe that spoke louder than any words could have.

~8~8~

Cold slants of crisp golden sun obliquely slipped through the tiny round window lodged high in the guard's house. Frills of frost glistened against the window like a field of diamonds clustered along the panes and framework. Pale brown dust, most rankled up from the sudden hectic living in the usually sedate guard domicile, tumbled down like the snowflakes in the world beyond the castle walls. A small fire popped behind the dark iron grate, adding the only sound to the tranquil room.

Throughout, the entire room was a peacefully, splendid haven, one Regina appreciated more than words could allow. Theirs was a cozy little hideaway they hadn't had since they left the forest.

Head leaned back against a cold stone wall, the witch breathed the musty air in deep. The quiet nearly made her think the entire world was right. No evil witch, no monkey's nothing but peace and… him.

"Are you ready, Regina?" Robin queried softly from before her. Sitting on his knees just as she, he let his hands rest on his thighs.

Betwixt them five arrows sat lined up like a tiny bridge connecting them. Each tip was made of delicate silver and honed to a pins edge all around. The feathers were black, sleek eagle pinions and trimmed so sharp to that they seemed almost as deadly as the tips themselves.

Sucking in a trepidations breath, the form evil queen nodded. "We can't wait any longer." There was no time to waste when actions came to Zelena. They had to move fast just for the hope they would be one step ahead.

Plucking up an arrow, the witch held the tip up. Rays of tawny sun glinted off the tip, casting a dot of light across her pale skin. Shaft in her left hand, she stuck the thumb of her right out. Not a hint of hesitation showed upon her stoic visage as she pressed the tip of the arrow into her thumb.

Bright crimson blood beaded from the pad of her thumb as she pressed the digit into the arrow. A hiss of pain seeped from her lips but she tapered the noise quickly to hide the lance of pain through her.

Red tinged the silver tip, staining the projectile with her essence as one by one the same was done to the other four. Placing the last arrow back, now stained with her blood, the witch waved a hand over the arrows.

A glow of scarlet, not her usual damson seeped from her hand. Drifting like fog from her outstretched palm the red mist settled over the arrows. Gleams of vermilion shot like a flesh through the room before the magic imbued the blood stained arrows and seeped into her ruby ichors.

"There." Regina waved her thumb to alleviate the sting. "That should do the job," she claimed then whispered a quick spell to heal the wound.

Eyes pinioned upon the arrows, the thief nodded vapidly. "One would have been enough, Regina, two at the most. You shouldn't have enchanted five."

If the first one missed there was a good chance that would be the only one he could get off. If the witch caught on there were two of them they were both as good as dead as soon as the realization hit. Why would she let herself linger in pain longer for arrows that would do no good?

A loving smile sparked upon Regina's mouth, transforming her concentration into a look of ardor. Placing a hand upon his, she breathed in out a small sigh. "If this fails I want to give you every opportunity to get back to Roland. If you can but throw off her guard to get away then I don't regret wasting a single ounce of power."

Never could regret spending anything to give him a chance at life.

"Regina I won't leave you to the hands of that witch. Should this mission fail-,"

"You will make straight way back to this castle and take Roland as far away as possible," Regina interrupted, her throat catching. Tear glistened like stars in her eyes as she smiled up into his bright, brown orbs. "I won't have it any other way, Robin. Promise me if you miss the first shot you will come back here and make sure… our son lives. Promise," she smiled through her tears, "Promise or I will turn you into a fox right now and take these arrows and try my own hand at archery once more."

Stubbornness fired through his whiskey depths as he searched her face, so close to his own. She was serious about her threat. The last thing she wanted was to leave Roland an orphan with the knowledge they failed.

Heaving in a sigh, he relaxed himself. "I promise, Regina. If I miss I will make straight way back here. You have my word of honor."

Even as the words left his mouth, the witch grabbed his hand. Squeezing tight, she let her power flow from her body into his. Sinuous purple tendrils rose from her palm and swirled about his wrist like a ribbon of plum. A small tingling shot through his hand before the feeling mellowed away to nothing but her warm, gentle touch.

Confusion wrinkled his brow as he looked back to her. "What…?"

"You're keeping your vow, Robin," Regina explained as she rose serenely. "If that arrow misses you're coming right back here. It's a compulsion spell. If you miss your first instinct will be to leave, and that means using those other arrows to make good your escape."

Word or not, he wouldn't leave her of his own free will. In the depths of her heart she knew he would break such an oath.

Slowing coming to his feet, the archer stared in disbelief. "You planned this?" He rubbed his palm as though some invisible liquid clung to the calloused flesh.

"From the very first moment you told me your plan." A sad smile curled upon her lush lips. "I care about you too much to see you perish."

Bravely, the thief searched her eyes once more. Only truth remained in her russet depths. Truth and love. "And there's no way to make you change your mind?"

"None." She shook her head. A small smile twitched upon her lips at a sudden thought. "You aren't the only one who can be infuriating backwoodsman."

He could be angry, disapproving, hurt, but there was no changing her mind. He would live. By all her magic, he would make his way back to Roland safely!

Bending, the bandit collected the five arrows in his grip. Tucking the arrows snug unto his quiver the thief gave a terse nod. "Then let's get to it, then, Regina. Let's finish this so that we may get on with our lives as one. Man and woman. Husband and wife."

"Prepare yourself then." Regina smoothed out her tunic primly, once more the regal queen. "I have a spell to take us to her as close as safe can allow."

All the goodbyes had been said, all the promises of coming back in one piece had been uttered. There was nothing for it now than to be plunged into the depths of all their problems and face Zelena.

Nodding silently, the thief clutched his bow tight. His fingers tapped a nervous rhythm against the aged wood, the only sign of his wariness before their onerous task.

Summoning her regular magic to her behest, a spiral of amethyst power swirled over them before they dissipated into a puff of smoke far away from the white walls and safety of the realm of the Charming's.

~8~8~

Bright noonday sun lay dampened by a brace of pale gray clouds that stretched languidly about the blue sky as the pair appeared at the outskirts of Regina's former sanctum. Dark pines and cedars and evergreens cloaked them in their prickly needles as they came directly before the keep.

The restored dark towers punched towards the sky like black arrows staining the glorious day. Monkey's hopped mischievously about the outside of the sleek black and silver castle like roaches roaming where they did not belong. Some of the furred beasts clung to the railings whilst others merely lazed in the dreary rays.

Shock liberally gilded Regina's sharp features as she stared at her newly restored keep from the dark forest fringe that surrounded the ominous citadel. Her umber orbs searched the keep as though it wasn't possible the thing stood before her eyes.

"She didn't…," she whispered wrathfully beneath her breath, her eyes stapled upon the keep.

To her right, Robin cast her an askance glance. "She didn't what?" he asked and pulled back deeper in the shadows of the dark pines and low brush covered with fresh snow.

"That's my castle." Her mouth twisted into a disapproving sneer. "Was, anyway."

The place had been destroyed when the curse had hit and had only tumbled into more ruin with the years long past. She had seen the destruction with her own eyes. Nothing had been left so she had never even bothered to trek back to the keep and scrape a semblance of a life together.

Crouching behind a low hanging branch of fir needles, the bandit eyed the keep like any thief would a potential castle for thievery. "That makes our job a bit easier, doesn't it?" he inquired hopefully to his love.

"How so?" the witch asked curiously, her voice quieter than the low wind against the snow.

"These castle are all the same. Everyone has an exit somewhere, some secret passage or door," the outlaw explained. "Didn't you have anything of the sort? Did you ever think to build something of that nature?"

Staring at the keep a small smile perched upon her pursed lips. "Come to think of it, backwoodsman, I did."

Slowly, the witch stood. Her boots crunched softly against the heaped snow as she turned away from the keep and began to traipse through the frozen world. The emergency exit in case of assault was located in her heart chamber. She had never been so belligerent or haughty as to assume some day some power would never rise up to try and defeat her. When the time came she wished to be ready, but no power but her own ever rose to defeat her so.

Dodging through the somber, dark firs, the witch maneuvered with her learned skill through the winter woodland as they moved away from the keep. "The entrance isn't far. I made the escape close enough to try to backtrack on an enemy if need be but far enough to steal away should there be no other recourse."

"My fiancé the tactician," Robin chuckled jovially as he followed behind.

Another smile twitched at her lips at his eternal easiness he seemed to carry in the most dire of circumstances. "More than that, thief. We're in luck. Before I left I sealed the door to the escape with Blood Magic." She paused at a large boulder next to a naked birch. "Which means we can enter with the utmost subtlety."

The plugged exit stood before them in way that would take the most cunning expert to unearth its camouflage if they did not know the signs to look for. A boulder, one of many on the slopped, hilly ground leaned against a tree as though time and the elements slowly moved the stone monolith. Little did many know, the boulder was merely a door to block any adventurers murderers of the stones true intent.

Lifting her hands to the sky, the witch called magic to her grasp. A gauzy film of purple coated the rock before the boulder began to quake. Shivering like an egg about to hatch, the gray boulder lifted into the air, and rolled away to the right leaving a massive manmade hole opened leading below.

"I'll go first," Regina stated and padded forward and slipped down to begin their journey. "I filled these halls with traps that were meant to main and slay. I remember them all."

Musty coldness of a tomb shivered down Regina's spine as she clambered down the rusted metal ladder rings to the world below. Mold and must and gloom ostensibly filled the corridor that composed Regina's emergency escape. The tunnel had once been a catacomb and she used the aura of the dead to her advantage.

An eerie whisper of wind slipping through cracks swirled past her ears as she landed at the bottom. A light splash of drained off water and melted snow resounded dully through the dark world below the snowy land in a deathly echo.

Calling magic to her beck again, the witch flashed a hand out to the tunnel. At once, little spots of light flashed intermittently upon the walls. Fires flared to a steady brilliance along the moldered brown stone bone made aperture, adding light to the dreary corridors.

Eyes scanning for the traps she laid, she checked to make certain the path she could take was clear. The third stones were always trapped, the lights on the left all could shoot darts lace with poisons, and other such perils all swarmed her mind.

A shiver passed through her as Robin jumped down, breaking her concentration. Another lifetime ago, he perhaps could have been in the tunnel, trying to take his chance and rob her. They could have been enemies and the hall could have been his doom and she none the wiser of the love they could have shared.

"You certainly picked a cozy little trail for your getaway," the archer commented cheekily, his voice reverberating along the moist stone walls as he landed beside her.

Casting him a half humorous, half scolding glance she fought back a smile. "I never thought I would have to use this little last resort. Upkeep slipped away," she jested and began to walk the treacherous trail.

Soft dust mixed into a pasty mud and spare, brittle bones lost to time that burst into dust crunched under their boots as they walked the dreary catacombs. Little by little they cunningly threaded there was across the path until they found themselves at the exit towards a door.

Made of black stone, the door was nondescript save for a golden handle that curved along the portal.

Turning to her husband to be, the witch adopted a look of all seriousness. "This is important, Robin so listen closely. The moment I place my hand on this door and open we need to separate. You'll find yourself in my heart chamber. The moment you go out take a right and stick to the wall. There will be a wooden door to your right. Enter. That will lead to the balcony of the court if you follow for the path. I will try to draw the witch there. That's the only place we can pull this off."

Though every room in her old citadel was gilded an ornate, the court was truly the only place one could be without suspicion. The high roof and the dark balcony would shroud even the most grandiose of people from view. If she could only lure her ignoble sister there then they would actually have a chance.

"Right." Robin nodded laconically and unsheathed his bow. "Wait!" he whispered out hurriedly before Regina put her hand on the handle.

Jerking her head back to him, her eyes studied him with utmost alarm. "What?"

"A kiss for luck?" A roguish smile spread across his boyish visage. If they were going to potentially meet their dooms then would a quick show of affection hurt?

Half annoyed, half amused, the witch rolled her eyes. "Pull this off and you can have all the kisses your heart desires," she tempered in low seductiveness.

Brow arched, the thief watch behind as she entered the door. "Why Regina you do offer the most wonderful incentives," he chuckled lowly before following her.

Fresh hair wafted about the thief's nose as he entered into what Regina had called her heart chamber. Multitudes of gold plated draws lined the entire circular room he found himself in. The rest was carved in gray stone and in the center a coffin lay illuminate by a spear of light coming from the domed roof.

Curiosity sparked in his heart at the sight of the chamber, but he brushed the feeling aside with a stoic hand. There was a job to do, the rest would come after they were finished.

Taking out one of the blood tipped arrows, the archer made his way as Regina directed. The moment she had entered she had vanished in her own separate way, but he tried not to worry about her too much. Regina was in her element and capable besides, she would manage… he hoped.

"So Regina brought you along to this foolhardy plot did she?" Rumpelstiltskin asked hollowly before Robin could even leave the heart chamber.

Ice frilled and trailed the bandit's spine as the voice reached his ears. His nerves went rigid with the question that sounded so much more like a statement. While they had tried their best to work him into the plan, Rumpelstiltskin was a rut in their plot they had no choice but to roll over and hope they didn't get stuck or worse.

Slowly turning to face the fiend, the archer pulled back his bow. Eyes narrowed upon the simply standing, Dark One, he faintly shook his head. "This arrow won't do a thing to you will it?" he asked calmly, already knowing the answer

"Indeed not," the Dark One assured sadly with a shrug of his shoulders. "Blood Magic can only harm blood kin. I am no such thing to Regina."

Licking his dry lips, the bandit tried to keep hopelessness from his voice. "Which means this is all for naught then?"

Had they come so far to be crushed to pitifully easily? Could they not even enact one stage of their plans before they were thwarted by powers to great for them to defeat?

"Not necessarily," the Dark One offered hesitantly and laid a hand on the cold coffin he stood beside. "My mistress only bids me to defend her from those that seek to attack her. You haven't made any move to attack her which means for the moment you're safe. The moment you do, however, I'll be forced to act." Hands akimbo, he shook his head sorrowfully. "Believe me, I would stand down if I had a choice. I would let you kill me. Since she killed my Belle all I have desired is death. But I can't, she will never free me so easily."

Vapidly drawing his bow done, the archer stared at the fiend incredulously. "So you mean as long as I do not attack her, you will do nothing?"

"That's the way of things, yes," Rumpel affirmed with a small nod.

Any loophole he could find and abuse was a gift he stressed with all his power. Though Zelena oft punished him for trying to find ways to undermine her in his own way, he still fought back as best he could.

Mind whirling, her tried to place all the pieced together. "That means…."

"You had better find Regina fast before I'm forced to act," the magical monster warned calmly, his face a picture of utmost dread.

If Regina tried to attack the witch for the slightest instance then she had scented herself to a gruesome death.

~8~8~

Gray dusty cobwebs brushed irritatingly against Regna's palled face as she marched through the long unused secret corridors that spread their network about her palace. Fresh air streamed through the clandestine halls, the only boon in the tight confines she trod.

All lay dark in the claustrophobic confines and Regina dared not conjure a light. Hand pressed upon the dusted wall, inch by inch, she felt her way to her destination. While she hadn't been in her keep in ages, she still knew the insides and out of her home. She could have navigated the castle blind if that had been her desire.

She knew every door and escape of the tracery of halls, especially the one that led to her own chambers. If she knew Zelena like she thought she did, then the witch would have post haste taken up residence in her old rooms.

"This is it," Regina sighed inwardly as she stood on the outside of a warped wooden door.

Behind the door, if Zelena had changed nothing there would be wardrobe. The wardrobe's false back would lead her right into her bed chambers.

Hand on the silver latch, the witch slowly eased open the door. Not a squeak trilled from the hinges as she forced her way inside.

The velvet and silken arms of old black dresses met her exposed skin as she snuck through the large wardrobe like some oversized rat. The scent of duty clothes clogged her nostrils nearly making her sneeze but she forced any action that would betray her presence back.

Facing the door that would lead to the outside, the witch cautiously turned a secret iron latch that would open the locked wardrobe from the inside. She had seen to the latch installed herself, just in case she had ever had to sneak back into her palace from some invading monarch and wipe him off the face of the realms from the inside.

The doors easily swung open as she touched the latch, leaving her in the midst of her old domicile. Everything was how she had left them. The blue and black chaise lounge and divan sat in their places and so did the once precious vanity she lauded so long ago.

She could have spent a breath letting the memories of her reign sink in, but right before her, at the open balcony stood Zelena.

Clad in a loose sable gown, the witch was more at ease that Regina had ever seen. Her honey brown hair was loose and cascades in bouncy swirls down her back. Her green skin on her hands glinted in the dreary sun as though she had just finished a bath. She seemed like a noble just getting up after noon and letting the thought of their reign warm them.

Quietly, ever so quietly, stepping out of the wardrobe, the witch brought a fire ball to her hands. If Zelena was so occupied, then perhaps she could sneak up upon her and finish her life before their true plan could come to fruition.

"Really Regina I think you have more of the Charming's in you than you realize," Zelena chuckled and slowly turned around to face her sister. A mocking smile festooned her ruby lips as she banked her head to the left, not in the least surprised. "You just don't give up, do you?"

Cover blown as she had well assumed, the evil queen strutted forward. Eyes hard as stone, she glared murderously at the witch. "We need to finish this. No more suffering, no more battles. You have to die, Zelena. There is no other way."

"Oh woe is me," Zelena taunted, feigning tragedy at some un-fair lot. Placing a hand to her heart she mocked a stricken look of betrayal. "Slain by my own sister, poor, poor, Zelena," she moaned in venomous sweetness then sobered. "Well sis." Outstretching her arms she made herself an impossible to miss target. "Go ahead, strike me down."

She had to be up to something, Regina knew perfectly well, but if she could just start off their fight and lead her into the court then perhaps she could win against whatever Zelena had up her sleeve.

Pulling her hand back, the exile sneered at the grinning green monster. "With pleasure-"

"Regina, no!" Robin cried out from behind before she let the fireball fly. Rushing in behind his love, the archer jerked her hand down. "Don't fight her!"

Immediately, her concentration lost, the fire sputtered out. A wisp of pale gray smoke slithered up betwixt them leaving that the only outlet of power.

Shock emblazoned, Regina's face as she looked to the archer. "Robin…."

Why wasn't he in position? Why had he ruined their last chance?

"To strike her means death at the Dark One's hands," he explained hastily and released her arm. Zelena had only been toying with her. Should she have let the fireball fly the Dark One would have struck her down like a gnat.

"You brought your boyfriend along on this little suicide?" the green witch clucked her tongue in prim disapproval. "How delightfully sentimental." Taking a step forward she smiled oily sweet. "Robin isn't it? Yes, I've seen you too much along with my sister. You obviously care for her. Tell me, what makes the evil queen so special to a noble thief?"

Eyes turning to Zelena, he shook his head. "If I told you, I fear I'd talk you to death," he shot back cheekily in his own defiant way.

"How sweet," the Wicked Witch oozed maliciously. "I hope all those things can grant you comfort as I kill her."

Stretching out her hand out, the green snake forced her magic unto Regina. Like a tidal wave, the green tsunami overpower the exile in a thunderous roar of magic. Vines of green shot out instantaneously from the stone like whip lashes and curled over Regina's body to drag her to the farthest wall like some prize kill.

Ropes of magic over her wrists and ankles and neck, the evil queen had no choice but to sail to the wall. Crashing hard against the barren wall, she clung to the stone like she was nailed to the rock. A cry of defiant surprise tried to sail from her mouth but a strand of magic choked off any sound from her mouth.

Grinning in utmost satisfaction, the Wicked Witch added agony through the tentacles like electricity through water Pain like acid rattled through Regina as the wicked power of Zelena crackled through her.

A muffled cry of torment resounded past her gagged lips as she writhed and struggled with the surges of power slowly killing her.

With a cry, Robin notched his bow and aimed at the witch. "Let her go or I will shoot. This arrow is endowed with Blood Magic," he warned sternly to hide the abject fear in his voice.

"Shoot all you like, thief," Zelena cackled wickedly, her eyes never leaving her sister. "The moment you of so stupidly release that arrow the Dark One will teleport here and end your miserable life."

Taking another step forward, the archer forced himself not to fling himself at Regina's side. "This bow never misses its target."

"Believe me, Robin Hood," Zelena began insouciantly, "It will. Even without the Dark One there are a thousand ways to dodge that arrow."

She was right, Robin knew from the depths of his heart. There was no way, Rumple's powers couldn't over act the bow or arrow. He had done so once before. Another time would be nothing. And that was all after whatever Zelena could do to prevent the arrow from piercing her without the aid of the Dark One.

A bead of sweat trickled down the edge of his right temple as his brain fired through what to do. Abruptly a pang flared through his hand in a warning pulse. The spell Regina had enacted upon him was coming to life. Slowly her life was ebbing away and the spell was making him keep his oath.

If Regina died he would have to leave, and if he fired at the witch, they would both perish.

Closing his eyes as though delivering a quick prayer, the archer steadied himself. There was only one thing to do, he knew, one thing he had never wished in all his life to do.

"Forgive me, Regina," he muttered beneath his breath.

Opening his eyes, the archer released the arrow.

The sharp hiss of the arrow filled the air the moment he released the projectile from his arsenal. Letting the bow drop from his hands, the marksman snapped out another blood laced arrow and raced with the arrow in his hand like a dagger.

If he could just make it to her, if he could just get in range….

A laugh split viciously from Zelena's mouth as the arrow zipped by her face. "That was it?" She remained calmly standing as the archer raced towards her. "You're only hope and you miss? So much for your promise that your bow never misses."

As he ran near, the witch grabbed the arrow in his upraised hand and held the weapon back. With magic flooding through her she could hold him at bay with the strength of a hundred men.

A cold smile weaseled upon her face as she froze the archer in place with but a thought. Vile laughter nearly sailed from her mouth at their utter stupidly. That had been their entire plot? They really were indeed at their wits end!

"You had one shot and you miss?" She closed the gap betwixt them and stared merrily into his frozen eyes. "Did you think I wouldn't see past that trick? Take me off guard and then use another arrow to try and kill me? Did you think I didn't see that little trick coming a mile away?"

Eyes insolubly locked to the Wicked Witch, the thief forced a smile to his nearly numb face. "That wasn't the trick," he muttered through near frozen lips.

As the words left his mouth, a whistling noise hissed viciously through the air. From behind the archers body jerked forward as the arrow went through the left side of his chest.

Surprise endowed Zelena's face as the sickening sound of the arrow sunk through his form. A look of awe wrinkled her visage as she staggered a bit forward as though being drawn to him by some immutable force.

The arrow, having gone through his entire chest, had plunged through hers as well and stuck directly into her heart.

"The bow never misses its target," the thief stammered lowly. "Even if it's me."

Shock dancing through her eyes, the witch blinked as though she couldn't believe his words. "Don't… don't think you've won." Grabbing the arrow betwixt them, she let a spurt of green power flow through the shaft.

"We have, Zelena." Robin smiled. Using the last of his strength, he pushed the witch away.

A look of utter disbelief adorned her face as he tottered for a moment, her bright red blood leaking from the center of her heart. As she stared at the thief, almost not sure whether to be wrathful of sad, her eyes rolled up as her body crumpled, dead.

Clutching the arrow set in his chest, the thief stood for a few moments more. Staggering, he turned to face an awed Regina. Not a word fell from her mouth as she watched in silent horror the mortal wound in her loves chest.

A weak, loving smile quivered on his lips as he fell to his knees. Body careening to the right, her landed on his side, his lifes blood irretrievably slipping away by the mortal wound deep in his chest.


	22. Life's Turnings

Terror pumped poisonous, icy fear through Regina's veins as she stared wide eyed at her love upon the swirled silver and black marble floor of her renewed castle. Her very life essence froze and her nerves came to a dead stop in tandem with his motionless body. The entire word seemed to still in coalesced nothingness as she watched her love tumble to the floor in a heap of wounded life to his side then slump to his back.

Blood. His blood, more blood than she thought anyone could ever possess slowly trickled out his slowly heaving chest. The arrow quivered in the air, still lodged deep into his body, projecting from his torso like the empty pole to a banner long since torn away.

Eyes wide as russet coins, the witch remained frozen at the sight of him so grievously hurt. Only as the sordid emerald magic of her dead sister disintegrated from about her body into wisps of dissoluble smoke did she recall life back to her limbs.

Dropping softly to her feet from where the cruel witch had lofted her, the numb Regina half stumbled, half staggered to her love. Dipping perilously close to landing on her face, she managed to catch herself as she dove close. Her entire form felt like a limp puppet swinging in the breeze on the fine strings that held her appendages. Her limbs refused to work at her command with every breathless moment lost. Her hands quaked, her body surged or lagged as she neared him.

Sticking out like a bloody beacon the arrow sat slightly skewed to the sky in his chest. Where the shaft was placed there was no way he could have not been punctured anywhere vital. His life was slipping fast away from with the wound caught deep. Scarcely could she wrench her eyes away from the figure that told the tale of life near to a heroic end.

Falling hard to her knees at his side, the witch placed both quaking hands on the side of his immobile head. "Robin," her voice quivered his name tremulously. Eyes feverishly scanning him, she took special care not to jostle her love too much as she concernedly leaned over him. "Robin, speak to me," she pleaded softly, feeling a lump catch in her throat.

"Regina." A bloody wheeze rattled perilously from the noble archer's lips. Droplets of his crimson life flecked his mouth as he heaved in a watery breath that seemed to do no better than bailing water from a leaking boat.

One hand on his rough, five O'clock shadowed cheek, she slowly let her other hand trail down his faintly rising chest. The very tips of her quivering fingers brushed against the dark crimson wound that caused him so much pain.

"Don't move it," the bandit warned in a low hiss of pain even at the slightest brush against the edges of the wound. Screwing his eyes shut, he bit back a cry to save his dwindling breath. "Better… better leave it. You might dislodge something if you try to wrench the arrow free."

With any movement his life could end far quicker than what the shaft already deemed. Even if the freedom would relieve a moment of pain, better to have his few moments with her than for all the relief in the realms.

Eyes turned to him again, a weak smile, fresh with hope quivered upon her lips. "I can heal the wound," she informed him gently.

So long as he still held on the frayed thread of his mortal coil, she could heal him. No wound was too grievous if he but drew breath and his heart, no matter how weak beat the most insipid tattoo.

"No," he rasped out, his voice akin to leaves scudding on flagstones. "She… she did something to the arrow before she die…."

Though he was no magician of any sort, there could have only been one purpose into exercising that last bit of magic. If Zelena's fate was to die she would not die alone. He had read that much in her last light that faded from her eyes.

Alarm washed over Regina's face with the sudden knowledge divulged from her wounded love. Quickly whisking a hand over the tip of the projectile, she watched as a faint jade glimmer almost akin to a flashing, mocking eye gleamed from the silver point.

Dread filled her chest like cold fluid building up along her heart. Zelena had not deemed t die alone or leave her sister a modicum of happiness.

The arrow certainly had been enchanted by Zelena. The particular magic breathed upon the arrow with Zelena's last breath was a rather useful spell for combat. When the spell was endowed or enchanted upon a weapon, whatever the weapon touched or sliced was never to heal.

Bandage or poultice of ever potion, unless another sorcerer was powerful enough to undo the enchantment, the injured would die either a quick death or a slow, painful one from a wound that could never mend.

"Oh no, no, no, no, no," Regina stammered disbelievingly, her mind egregiously grasping the meaning of what the spell and what that entailed for them. Frantically, her eyes searched the arrow as though the weapon were a puzzle she could free from his body if only she could figure out the code. Hand curled into a fist around his brown and green attire, she clutched at him desperately. "Rumpelstiltskin!" Her voice echoed desperately throughout the ornate chambers.

He perhaps could undo the magic that Zelena had imbued upon the arrow. With his magic he could banish Zelena's own and rid her love of the curse set upon him.

Dreadfully, silence only replied back, like a mocking spectator looking down upon the tragedy. Not another soul stirred in the castle leaving them helpless and alone. No voice returned, no magic filtered through the air. Only the silence of the lonely castle extolled a reply.

Weakly raising a hand, the thief placed his bow calloused palm over her fist. "Regina… he's not here."

Despite her cry for aid, he hadn't come. Had he wished he could have come when the arrow released from the bow. Such magic was unmistakable even for those who could not tap into such power. No doubt he was off to fix some trouble Zelena had caused or perhaps he didn't care enough to see a lowly thief saved. Whatever the reason, he would not come to her cries, though perhaps, his magic would have made little difference anyway.

Already he could feel a peculiar chill tingle against his skin. The cold was not akin to the bitter wind of winter but a chill that seemed to warm the more the cold deepened to his bones.

Raking a hand through her silky raven tresses, she started to rise. "Then… then I'll go for him. I'll drag him here. His magic was stronger, he can heal this."

"Regina…." A haggard cough barreled sanguinely past his lips. His body minutely writhed in torment as blood spewed past his mouth. Already his face was painted with the pall of death. A cyanotic blue hinted around his normally pink, hale lips leaving no doubt that his life was slowly being coaxed away. "We… we don't have time for that."

No spell could have faster frozen her in place at his side than his words did at that moment. Dread swirled noxiously in her heart, bringing her soul down to the icy sea of her riotous belly. Though in her moment of near hysteria, she realized the truth of his words with the finality spoken from his rasping throat.

She couldn't fetch Rumpel in time. Her love's life was drifting away to the eternal lands beyond, faster than even her magic could carry her.

Tears brimmed Regina's lovely dark brown eyes as she looked down on her injured love. Placing a warm hand against his cheek again, she breathed his name in a watery prayer. "Robin." His name came out in a soul filled sigh.

Inwardly her beaten heart roared in agony. Once again fate refused to shine upon her! Life wasn't fair. How again could her love be struck down before her, taking away happiness and love all with frail heart beats? How could her life turn down the same road already so painfully traveled?

"I… I'm sorry, Regina," he weakly sucked in a husky breath that didn't fill his lungs. "I… promised this time love would be different; that our ardor would not be lost."

Deep in the forest, before Zelena, before magic, he had promised, swore, vowed that love would not spiral into a nightmare. Her love was to be free of the pain of loss and he had exponentially let her down. Here now she was experiencing all those again, things she had experience too many times before.

Confused, thin lines wrinkled her near flawless visage. "There is nothing to be sorry for. You helped me realize love wasn't to be feared." A singular crystal tear slipped down her left cheek. "Robin you taught me so much. Love greatest of all."

Loving silence tethered the two for a tremulous heartbeat, each drinking in the words that flowed from her heart.

Weakly focusing his eyes upon her, a gentle shimmer gleamed in his russet depths. "Do you remember…?" Blood speckled his lips as the words sputtered from his half smiling lips. "The place we stood when you rolled the cauldron down the hill and it ended up in the river?" he queried suddenly, his voice far away as though recalling the moment.

"I could stake that piece of land out the moment we stepped foot in the Southern Wood." A watery smile trembled plaintively upon her lips at the memory.

His lips pulled into a tied smirk. "I went there so many times after that day…. It was the place I learned that I loved you. I…I'd like to rest there. Calm and quiet. A place you and Roland could go. A place where only the three of us know."

That would be a good spot, he reasoned in his darkening mind. There was no need for any fancy resting place. A quiet spot was all that he would need to let him rest peacefully.

Roland. The very name nearly made the queen sob. What would she tell Roland when she returned? How could she explain that his father would no longer pick up and place him on his shoulders or teach him how to draw his boy? How could she explain he was not coming back?

"I will." Regina clasped his cold hand tight betwixt her own. "I'll tell him every day what a great man his paw paw was."

A bloody laugh faintly escaped his trembling mouth. How odd that someone would try an effigy him. "Make sure he… knows how good his mama is as well. She can't still be going by the evil queen," he jested, even in his lasts breaths the clever, smart mouth.

"Never again, Robin." She held his cooling hand to her chest. "I swear, if I can honor your memory in one way this magic shall be used for good."

There was no way she could fall back into the same old habits with all the work, all the love he had bestowed upon her. True, she would never be perfect but the will to use her powers for good and not evil if to just pay homage to him burned through her heart. He had worked to hard to let his death, his sacrifice be thrown to the wind.

Smiling up at her, his eyes flickering, his breathing slowed into a near imperceptible rise and fall of his chest. "I knew you would…." He whispered. "Take care of our boys, Regina." His lips formed the words. "I love-" before they froze unspoken in the last breath of life.

Agony washed over the ex-queen as his body fell still. Tears cascaded in silent mourning down her pale face. Why hadn't she been strong enough to banish away the magic? Why couldn't she save the man she loved?

Yes, again, she had lost a man who had her heart. She could have been spiteful angry, but only felt at peace. This time things would be different, her misery would not threaten the world. She owed it to Robin, to Roland to be the good witch they thought she was.

Heaped with misery still, the witch dropped her head to her chest. Tears clouding her eyes, it took a moment to see that something had happened. As her tears fell to her hands no longer did the purple outline shimmer at her fists. Instead an illuminate silvery white engulfed her right with a powerful warmth. Though the left stayed a dense purple, a silvery sheen encompassed her right fist, a light she knew very well.

Light magic.

Awed, the witched stared at her hand. No longer did she feel the repugnant purple power flow heavily through her, but the warmth of light magic, the magic that surpassed all other magic. The magic strong enough to defeat darkness.

Placing her hands around the still warm wound of her love, the witch focused the exotic power. Though she didn't know how, or why such a boon had been bestowed upon her, one thing was certain she would not waste a moment to use such a treasure.

Wrapping her hands about the arrow, the queen sent a wave of light magic through the weapon. A prayer mumbled past her lips as she concentrated. She couldn't be too late, she had to have hope she wasn't. A sizzle of magic cut through the air and with a mighty heave, she wrenched the arrow free.

Eyes pinioned to the arrow for a moment, the witch stared at the weapon in a heartbeat of time before tossing the cause of her misery away. Casting her eyes down, she searched the wound for signs of change.

All about the edges of the wound, the flesh began to turn a healthy pink. Inside the multitude of unseen wounds began to knit like new. The entire body began to seem as though caught in a bubble of time travel. The blood spilled back into the body as the skin mended and stitched back into the original tapestry of the body. Only a hole in the tunic let the place where the arrow had gone through be seen.

Anxiousness spilled across Regina's face in wary trepidation as she looked over the body. Her hand still glowed a white hot fire, but she scarcely noticed. Eyes roving, she looked for signs of life. She hadn't been late had….

Abruptly, the thief let in a gasp of air. His body sat upright with the forced of his life fully clinging to his body and sinking past his skin. Coughing and sputtering, the outlaw shivered as his spirit settled again to his form. He had been so close to the lands beyond, closer than ever before in his life.

Slowly finding Regina's eyes, the thief searched her breathlessly. Amazement stamped his roguish features and he simply sat there, listing to his own breath and feeling the tingling of her magic still linger over him. She had done the near impossible. She had defeated Zelena to the very last, she had taken her happiness for her own.

Wrapping, she arms about her in a feverish hug, the noble archer, crashed his lips to hers in a sweet kiss he had thought never again to taste.

~8~8~

Night hung crisply about the world in a tentative glass orb on the cusp of shattering. Snow swirled along the barely trodden plains, creating banks of slopes of snow as the realms waited with baited breath.

Dour anxiousness resided like a despotic lord over the castle of the Charming's in the quiet of the night. With each moment that passed without word from the intrepid two that had gone out to defeat the witch, a pulse of wariness trilled through their bodies like a breath of cold air.

Worry encompassed ever heart ion an intangible veil of darkest black. Could their plan work? Were Robin and Regina dead or prisoners of Zelena? Had they even managed to make it that far?

"I knew we shouldn't have let them go alone," Snow muttered self-deprecatingly aloud as she paced the council chamber. Hands motioning as though trying to grasp some intangible reason, her features dictated an intense worry. Her boots stomped rhythmically against the marble with each motion as an extemporal outlet of her anxiety.

Leaning petulantly against a marble column, Emma heaved her shoulders in a helpless shrug. "There was no other way. Taking two was a big enough risk. Who knows how many traps and plans Zelena had laid out for the possibility of us taking the fight to her?"

A large force, they had decided would have been far too noticeable. Even two would perhaps rile suspicions of some alerting magic, but two were needed for the task. An army couldn't be sent nor a small band. No, they had to go alone.

"Emma's right, Snow," an immutable sigh escaped David's lips as he motioned a hand insipidly to the frost encrusted window. "They had to go alone."

Snow tossed her head thoughtfully, her brow wrinkled into thin lines. "I just don't know. Two people can't have been enough. They've probably been beaten or tortured or ripped to shreds by monkeys by now."

"I'm glad to see we had your vote of confidence," Regina extoled banally about the room.

The aura of magic swirled about the council chamber as the words drifted upon the cold wind. In an instant a spiral of light purple magic flecked with silver coiled about the room. As the magic steam shredded the pair stood in the iris of the room.

Victory stirred their wane faces in a glow of triumph that seemed to shine from their very skin. Hand in hand, Robin and Regina stood before the battered nobles, together, strong, healed. Never had they seemed so conjoined. They appeared inseparable in every manner.

Jerking to a hard stop, the pacing Snow turned to the pair. Awe insolubly plastered her face in a wave of shock. "Regina…." The name fell disbelievingly from her lips and she blinked in astonishment. "You…?" her words pattered to a halt.

Were they real and true? Had they been successful or was this just another of Zelena's tricks and they were dead.

"Were we victorious?" Regina wryly filled in the words that remained unspoken and arched a brow. Digging her free hand into her cloak, her lips twisted into a smug smirk. "Well I'll just let you decide," she remarked in low satisfaction.

Slipping her hand out from her cloak, she revealed the dagger of the Dark One. The silver wavy blade stamped with the monster moniker rested plainly, deceivingly simple in her clutches. If they had failed there was no way they could have had such a treasure.

Wonder conspicuously filled their eyes as the blade gleamed a dull crimson in the flicking firelight. Never would Zelena put such a valuable object at risk if she were alive. She wouldn't simply use the dagger for a puerile trick.

Numbly, Emma padded forward, her eyes locked unto the blade. "You did it. You actually did it."

"Miss Swann if you hadn't realized by now I have a knack for getting the impossible completed." She smiled coldly. "And I suppose since we're almost all here we can get started on my payment for getting your sorry hides out of this predicament. But first…."

Lofting her arm with the inscribed kris the witch, smiled upwards towards the raised blade. "Dark One, I summon thee," she declared the ancient words angrily.

Though Robin was healed and alive at her side, the fact that Rumpel had not even deemed to help the person who had saved him from slavery galled her to her very bones. Rage swept a hot flood through her veins and the magic that had been mostly white began to stain a light wine-like purple.

Though the new magic power was still foreign she was quickly coming to gauge the exotic power mingled with her evil power. Both magic's served as an outward show of the tangle in her heart. When there was more goodness her magic glowed white, when she leaned more towards her more malicious tendencies the purple would shine through.

She had both now at her disposal and nothing but the most powerful of sorcerers could get in her way, and the one that actually could now stood in her clutches.

A wave of powerful magic, like a wind swirled through the air as the summoning words fled her lips. The red-yellow flames in the hearth swirled in an upward cyclone before nearly winking out with the zephyr of power.

In an instant the Dark One stood in their midst. Wiry talons clasped together before him, the fiend stood ready and willing of the dagger's behest to do her bidding. A look of lugubrious displeasure and hidden anger all swarmed his features in a hive of bitten back emotions.

"You heard me cry for you," the witch accused perniciously, her lips twisted into a wrathful snarl. Letting the blade drop back to her side, she glared with all the hate one person could have towards another at the magical imp.

Vapidly bobbing his head the fiend sighed. "That I did," he admitted without hesitation. He could every name called to him but he had declined to heed her call, now much to his regret.

"But you ignored us." The words squeezed past her clenched teeth. How could he just ignore such a cry?

Voided onyx shamelessly locked to hers he produced a small, insouciant shrug. "I thought you were dying," he admitted simply without guilt. He proffered a hand to the two. "I heard desperate cries for aid and assumed you were being tortured. Now with Zelena as my mistress what could I have done? Truthfully I had no hope that the two of you could defeat her. To my error," His eyes fell back upon the dagger, "I see I was wrong."

As he had ignored their cries for aid he had not considered they might have been victorious. Only when he had felt Regina's power take the dagger did he realize his error. He had thought to callously ignore their deaths and instead found himself again a captive when he could have swooped in and have been a free man.

Not only that but by the tattered hole in the thief's brown tunic there was no denying that her love had been in peril as well. And he had not responded.

"And still you find yourself the possession of another." Her eyes gleamed vengeful stars as she took a step forward. Jaw set, her lips twisted into a wicked sneer of wroth. "And now, you can wait with the others to hear the price that must be paid."

Looking about the stilled, room the witch eyed the nobles one and all each for a breath of time. They had all in their way done something to inhibit her; Snow, Charming, Emma, Hook, Rumpelstiltskin, they all had a hand in some misery in her life in some way no matter how small.

Holding herself once more as the queen she would always be, the exile smile thinly at the gathering of those who had banished her months and months ago. Now, she thrilled inside with a hint of deviousness, the tables were turned indeed.

Faintly shaking her head, her brown eyes still stonily pinioned upon them, she opened herself to them. "You know part of me wants to savor this," the deposed monarch admitted shrewdly, her voice ever tactful and wry. "Part of me wants to banish every last one of you. To strip you of everything or to make you my slaves and once more rule these kingdoms as I did long ago. Part of me wants to see each and every last one of you in chains, deep in a mine, digging for coal. A part of me wants nothing more than to see your heads on pikes or see you wrenched away from your loves like I. I have every power and right to enact such miseries and so much more," she paused and looked away thoughtfully as though fighting some inward battle.

A bigger lie could never be said if she claimed she wasn't tempted. The picture of sitting once more on her ebony throne in her castle with the infuriating Emma Swan as no more but a lowly cup bearer and her parents but servants to sweep the dust from her gaze was a temptation she could scarcely pull herself away from. Oh that was such a delectable dream.

Compressing her lips, she finally turned her head back up to them. "But I won't," she soothed coolly. She almost seemed as though the words were more for herself than they.

The man just a step behind her, alive, breathing, with her had helped mellow those emotions of vengeance, she felt deep in the blackness of her wounded heart. His love was far more than just the brief, cold, satisfaction of revenge could ever allot.

"With those, enticing thoughts put away, this is my price for helping all of you," she began smoothly. "I will see my son whenever I please and he shall be allowed to see me whenever he wishes. My banishment is of this very moment nullified in every fashion. As for you, Rumpelstiltskin," She flickered her eyes in his direction. "I would like nothing more than to know you are at my command with but a thought." A clever smile wove upon her mouth. "And so it shall stay. Your dagger will remain mine, but," she added quickly, "I swear I will never use your blade but in the most dire of circumstances."

Looking away to a dark corner of the room, the Dark One shrugged unperturbed. "It doesn't matter. Nothing matters without my Belle."

Not even slavery could eject him from his dire morose. What good was life without his precious love?

"That's right you don't know yet." Regina's cold smile eased into a genuine grin. Coaxed away by his pain, her anger softened with his grief.

Truthfully, for the first time she could relate to the pain that throbbed miserably through the Dark One's black heart. For the past few months he had lived in a gloomy world that revolved around the death of his Belle. She had only felt an ounce of such agony with the near loss of Robin. How long had Rumpel endured with the thought of her demise?

"Belle's alive," she informed him with a touch of gentleness and lightly inclined her head. "She managed to find me before anyone killed her while she was an ogre. She's been back to her old book worm self for a while now. She's probably down in the infirmary right now tending to wounded."

Light, like a candle alit in a pitch black room sparked suddenly bright in the Dark One's eyes. A small smile twitched upon his scaled visage. Her words were like a breath of life back into his body. "Belle," he whispered her name like a wary prayer and pointed a talon down at the floor in disbelief. "My Belle? She's here? Alive?"

"Go find her, Rumpel," the witch encouraged, her tone forgiving. "You've been away from her long enough. I know what it feels to love the love of your life. Be with her again."

Searching her eyes now filled with the strange new aura of kindness, the fiend backed away from the dagger wielding Regina. "Thank you mistress," he stammered in awe before he disappeared in a puff of purple.

"As for the rest of you," she paused and turned her attention back to the nobles. Coldness once more enveloped the witch, shredding away the kindness that cracked along her imperious visage. "There is one last thing I will have of you."

Wariness involuntarily fell over all their faces as she simply looked at them and smiled. Their eyes flashed from one to another in silent, hurried discussion of their fate. What would she demand? Something erroneous? Devious? Would she let a little evil slip out?

"I'm getting married in a few day," she explained and moved back to Robin. Gripping his hand once more she swilved her head to look into his loving eyes. Love, full and free danced between them. Basking in their love, she finally added, "And I'd like you all to attend."

**~8~8~**

_A/N: Only one more chapter to go my friends!_


	23. Two Hearts Conjoined

Bright, cold sunlight flashed down upon the snow laden glades of the Southern woods with a luminance that dazzled the sleeping land into a brilliant bed of jewels. Naked, slumbering trees hung heavy with layers of snow upon their bereft branches as though donned in sleek alabaster gowns. Vibrant birds of red and blue hopped and skipped beneath the snow laden limbs with the playful care of winter's rest.

Snow banked in heavy drifts all about the world. The realms normally shadowed and bleak gleamed as though diamonds bejeweled the very land in ostentatious costume of the momentous day.

Even the sky was a clear, crisp lapis lazuli that looked as though the entire world woke up anew with a cold, clean breath. The realms were clean and clear and fresh and though the world lay asleep there was also new life stirring in the pristine realms. Not a cloud tarried in the firmament or stained the crystal azure sky leaving the world aglow.

Nervousness clawed perniciously on the inside of Robin Hood's chest as he stood in the midst in the sleeping forest her knew so well. Though he had spent many a long years in the Southern Wood, the land of barren trees and the ground sprinkled with snow looked like a foreign world. He had never stood in the woods in such a state, especially how he found himself in the cold moment betwixt an old life and a new.

Garbed in a warm woolen tunic of soft green and breeches of the same hue, he cut a fine, noble figure for the first time in a long time. A long coat of dull green trimmed with golden thread about the cuffs hung down to his calves and boots of the same green that so suited his forest life completed his raiment. His hair was washed and neatly combed and so was his beard so that he seemed like any dashing fellow on his way to some monarch's ball or extravaganza.

Shifting uncomfortably in the clothes, the thief tugged irksomely at the left sleeve as he waited by his lonesome. Even in the direst of circumstances he had never felt such utter nervousness thrill through him. Why know, he pondered anxiously, why did his wariness lurk at the edges of his composure like a tensed tiger awaiting to spring?

His bold heart slammed pain tattoo against the cage of his chest, trying to escape with every tense moment that curtailed his breath and thoughts. Mind spinning in an inexplicable jumble of incongruous contemplations, the archer couldn't focus on even the most basic of yeomanry distinctions. All contemplations all slightest epiphanies went solemnly towards Regina. In but a few moments he was slated to be wed once more, to tie the bond in their family as officially as they had unofficially with but the yearnings of their hearts.

Wiping a slightly trembling hand down against his mouth, the thief felt the absurdity of his situation and his nerves gain a better vantage.

If anyone had told him even a year ago he would be ready to spend the rest of his life with the most notorious queen in all the realms, he would have called them completely, utterly mad with a sick mind to boot. Now, he could not picture a life without her by his side. He would gladly knock out the first soul who dared speak ill of her and would have run through the fire of Hades itself to see her safe and in his arms.

And yet though his ardor for her was a stone in his chest, the love for her served as a double edged blade. She freely touted all his passion but was he worthy of her? He, a lowly thief hiding in the woodlands? Could he provide everything a woman such as she needed? Deserved? Was his love enough for a woman who deserved so much more than he?

"I haven't seen you this nervous since we decided to break out half the town from Prince John's prison and steal his gold all in the same night," Little John interposed jestingly on Robin's thoughts.

Snow crunching lightly under his boots, the bear of a man entered the small glade the thief found himself pacing. Happy merriment that beamed heartily towards his best friend twinkled brighter than the sun kissed snow in his depths. His bearded lips held a wide grin that seemed doubly cheery by his red cheeks. Had he not looked so utterly gargantuan he might have seemed like a Great-father winter to deliver presents to good children.

Lumbering over to his leader, he slapped the outlaw merrily on the back. "What's this? Working yourself up for a little ceremony?"

How could his longtime friend look as though he was just about to do daring feat? He was practically married to the woman in all but name anyway! The way they looked at each other marked their togetherness more than any ceremony ever would.

"I'm afraid so, John." A small smile flashed wanly upon his lips before falling away to a nervous from. Glum sigh heaving from his lips, he raked a trembling, bow roughened hand briskly through his brown mane. Eyes still pinioned upon the untrodden path of undisturbed snow, he faintly tossed his head. "I forgot how this felt. The last minute doubts, the indecision. I thought my marriage with Marian had nullified those thoughts, those insecurities."

The hulk frowned a bit. "You'll never get rid of those thoughts, Robin." A tendril of milky gray vapors slipped from his unseen lips. "They're what keep you on your toes," he repaid wisely in a rough grunt.

"I know, John." The thief anxiously motioned a hand down the winding way that would lead to the weddings allotted space. "It's just…." His words trailed off as he stared at the tree flanked path that led to the snowy enclave. "What if I'm not good enough for her? She was a queen, John, a _queen_. I am but a lowly thief." Morosely he laid his knuckles against his woolen wedding garb. "She can't want to marry me. She just can't."

How could a wonderful woman such as Regina fall for one such as he? The sun had a better chance of falling from the heavens! They had so disliked one another at first glance. How had they found themselves so in love?

Landing a large, thick hand on Robin's shoulder, the massive man squeezed gently for support. "She does Robin. You both are caught worse than a bears in a foot trap. Your love binds you. She won't sever that. The way she looks at you… even I can see that's different that how she looks at everyone else. You may have the best sight around, Robin but if you can't see how she looks at you, you're worse than a blind man."

Love and tenderness gleamed like russet stars in her eyes when she spoke to Robin. Even if she was angry with him the glint of love never faded. His love was a diamond in her eternal depths, never to erode.

Sharp eyes clasped thoughtfully to the barren stretch before him, the archer chuckled half mirthfully. A small grin tilted his lips in a brief glow of merriment. "Poetic, John. I didn't know you had that in you."

"Everyone's surprising everyone today." Low laughter rumbled like thunder past the man's coarsely bearded lips. Hand gripped over Robin's shoulder, he pushed the thief forward to destiny. "Now you get going. I'll be right behind you. Everyone's waiting. It about time you both made this official."

Staggering forward from what John would have called an "easy" shove, the noble bandit righted himself in his new clothing before he landed face first in the snow. Stalwartly restoring himself, he smirked as the wheels of fate finally began to turn.

Nervously, he smoothed out his green attire again as he marched down the lonely causeway of naked trees.

The honey sun slanted through the empty tangle of branches spearing light against the pristine path to bejewel his way Glinting snow crunched beneath his boots, falling in tandem with the low beating of his heart.

Far ahead he could see the gathering that had been teleported to the forest. White chairs sat in side by side rows of eight and left a cleared path down the center. At the front of the aisle, right at the end where all the chairs pointed sat a large tree, the same tree he had dropped down to first confront a half starving Regina for stealing his fish.

A smile quirked upon his face as the summer memory assaulted him. Laughter bubbled in his throat but he swallowed the mirth like a dose of sugar. Oh if only he had known then….

Shaking the though away, the archer tromped down the aisle. To the left sat the nobles all dressed in their grand way and to the left sat the merry men. Garbed in clothes they fought hard to scrub and clean from grease stains and mend from holes that had been in their attire for eternity, they looked a motely bunch or red faces, cheering rough men all in a mottled array of greens, grays, and browns.

Two seats over to the right sat Henry and on the first chair of the very first row was Roland. Dressed in his finest winter clothes that were all mended and clean he looked a miniature image of his father save for the small cloak draped over his shoulders.

Legs kicking excitedly, not close enough to reach the snow, he smiled in joyous expectations as the people he called Paw-paw and mama were to become one.

As he arrived to the front, both Henry and Roland slipped away, leaving only the giant John to sit on the front row. They wouldn't have missed a minute of the wedding for the world had not something special beckoned them.

Watching them slip away, a satisfied grin crept upon Robin's lips. They were already fast becoming two brothers, each getting into mischief together and looking out for the other. Roland had taken to Henry as an older brother and Henry had all but taken Roland under his wing as his younger sibling in all but name.

With a deep breath, vapors channeling out in a thin stream of pale white, the archer moved into position. Hands clasped before him his eagle eyes observed the mixed crowed. All those Regina found distasteful sat there. That had taken a lot from her, but she was displaying a lesson in forgiveness that was becoming more and more common. She was trying to erase her old hatreds and her invitation was a step in the right direction.

He was proud of her for that small display, her token of forgiveness; prouder than he knew how to express.

"It's just about time," Tuck claimed as he waddled up to the front, his words involuntarily disrupting Robin from his train of thought.

Garbed in his normal attire, the corpulent holy man folded his hands in his habit and stood in the center under the tree. A wide smile adorned his ruddy face in absolute glee for his friend but he kept the rest of his excitement curtailed to a profession level of excitement.

Pent sigh escaping like a release of steam from some contraption, the archer gave a near imperceptible nod. His eyes, still coasting over the heads of people known and foreign, roved aimlessly to take his mind of what was to come and settle his fire nerves.

Then suddenly he spotted her.

Sliding into their midst at the back of the aisle so smoothly, she seemed something arisen from a wondrous dream rather than a mortal woman of flesh and blood.

Dressed in soft sable, the queen, Regina slowly walked down the aisle. A lovely gown of midnight adorned her sensuous body. The shoulders ran into long sleeves against the cold and went nearly past her wrists at a wide angle. The cuffs were trimmed with a rich red that matched the color on her plump lips. The neckline ran into a modest V and was trimmed with the same vermilions hued thread in an intricate filigree pattern. A simple strand of diamonds that glowed brighter than the snow lay in a torque about her swanlike neck.

All around her body, the gown hung perfectly to where, the garment hugged her curvaceous hips and cascaded down to a small train of onyx. Not many could pull off a wedding gown of black, but Regina did so with the utmost perfection.

The gown inexplicably suited her. She was not some bright, white, pure being. She was human, flawed, burnt, and strong. Darkness lingered in her past but she could make even her darkness beautiful.

From the right a proud little Roland happily escorted while Henry held her arm from the left. Both her sons proudly walked her down the aisles, each having a portion of her heart that had never seen the taint of evil.

Staring in awe of her, the archer could scarcely blink as she all but floated near. She was beautiful. Wonderful. Lovelier than he had ever thought. Always he had thought her attractive but in the sable gown, her hair pinned, the modest diamonds upon her porcelain skin. She was…. Radiant.

As the three neared the front of the aisle, Regina moved in place to the left. Her eyes only remained for him even as her sons moved away back to their seating. There could have been a thousand people watching but they merely had eyes for one another. For a moment they could be utterly selfish. No one mattered but they.

"You clean up nicely, Backwoodsman," Regina commented lowly, her dark chestnut orbs roving over him with a splash of humor. "More dashing than usual."

Lips a tremble, the thief, tried to conform words to meet her rare jest. His mouth moved to form words but the slightest sound defiantly abstained to leave his lips. His tongue stubbornly refused to work at his behest as he fought for words that would do her loveliness justice. A desert seemed to appear in is mouth, drying the syllables before they could fly from his lips.

He had always been a fair wordsmith, but he was a dilettante in her glorious presence.

A light spark of laugher skipped merrily from her lips as she shook her head in exuberant happiness. "The one day you can say thing you want and you're speechless." Her laughter sobered into a kind smile. "And I love you all the more for it."

Coughing officiously into a meaty fist, before Robin could prove her oh so wrong, Tuck cleared his throat as the ceremony was about to commence. Smiling faintly, his voice traveled crisp and clear over the snow. "Here before us, under the heavens and above the earth, are two people. Two people who have discovered the greatest gift, the greatest treasure of all – love. True love is a rare and precious thing. True love does not come easy to any. True love comes with sacrifice, with pain. True love is a bitter sweet pill few endure and even fewer find." He spread his hands from his habit and proffered one to each of them. "But today that is not the case. Today, True love knows no bounds, no pains, no flaws. Today that rarity is freed between these two hearts, Regina and Robin Hood." Taking a step back, he folded his hand over his expansive girth again. "The pair have each written what they'd like to say, so let us take a moment and listen to words that spring from the fountain of the truest magic in all the realms."

Staring at her with all the love he could possibly possess, the thief finally forced his words he so desperately wanted to speak from past the lump in his throat. "You're so beautiful." He stammered out passionately and gently grasped her hands into his.

His rough thumb ambled along her knuckles as he stared at her in astonishment. His eyed glimmered as though he could scarcely believe she was flesh and blood and not some beautiful mirage that would flee out of his grasp like smoke. Barely could he believe the ray of goodness fate shined down upon him but by heaven she was real, and there, and the last part of his heart.

Swallowing hard to compose himself, he thief stared lovingly into her eyes as the words bubbled from his heart. "Regina. From the very first moment you arrived in my life, you have been a lantern, a beacon for me, Regina. My heart has grown because of you. Its stasis is perished. You have awoken in me what is the very breath of life. I never thought I would find such love again, and never with a woman such as you. I have so many words in my soul for you that can never be uttered. They are too precious, too unfathomable to speak. They have never been uttered aloud. They are the words of love that is only heard and spoke in the language of the heart. My only hope is that you allow me to express them for you as best as a lowly outlaw can for the rest of my days." Eyes shining, he provoked a tear-filled laugh from his smiling lips. "With you, Regina I feel whole. Without you I feel an empty shell. I may be a thief, Regina, but it is you who have so stolen my heart and I wish you to keep it always."

"Robin Hood." A loving smile scaled quaveringly upon her lips. Tears in her umber depths, she blinked them back as her smile grew larger. "I still remember the day we met here. I remembered how I looked and thought of you then, some crazy Backwoodsman who smelled of forest and looked like he had been nurtured by woodland spirits all his life. At the time I never thought I would grow to like you, less love you. I was still some disgraced queen pretending to be mighty. I was angry, wrathful, and bitter that I had fallen." She took up his hands. "But as this… love grew, I found myself glad that I had fallen. Not only did my fall lead me to you, but I found that I was falling for you and that is something that I cherish."

"I owe you more than words can express. You have been so patient, so kind. You mended my wounded spirit. You took me in when I didn't deserve a second chance, you gave me a home, you gave me your love. I shut my heart out to the very notion of love long ago, and it took a thief to break in and tear down those walls built up around me from inside. I never thought I would see this day but I am glad fate had different plans and I bless they day we met. All that you have given me I wish to return a thousand fold. I can never hope to repay all your love, Robin but every day I will give my all. I will love you with every last shred of my heart. This heart is your, Robin. I give this too you freely and hope you will accept such a paltry gift from one who didn't deserve a scrap of your affection."

Looking from each love struck soul to the other as the words drifted off into steam, Tuck slipped his hands back into his loose forest green habit. As he pulled his hands free once more he brought forth a silken green ribbon.

Neatly, he tied on end to Robin's right wrist and the other to Regina's left. The symbolic green ribbon hung loosely from their wrists and swooped between them like some festive garland.

Sagaciously folding his hands in his habit again, the plump holy man looked up to them again as he spoke the ancient ceremonial rights. "Love, loyalty, courage, faith, these are the ties that bind. What has been bound here let no one separate." He turned to Robin. "Robin, you may kiss the bride."

Slowly, the archer leaned into his love. His bright whiskey eyes glowed with the tranquil rays of oblique sun as he stared into her endless depths. More love than they could possible fathom shined equally in their orbs. Raising his free hand, he placed his bow calloused palm against her smooth check and slid his hand so that his fingers slipped through her silken raven hair.

Lips barely apart, he caught her mouth in a gentle fiery kiss, sealing their rights as man and wife.

Wild heartfelt cheers rose up from the gleeful onlookers and rang raucously about the barren trees. Fists punched up to the sky as hoots of merriment rankled through the winter woods.

Overcome with excitement Roland slipped from his perch and toddled up to his newly married parents. Happiness beamed like a summer ray upon his face to see his parents finally, his actual mother and father.

As they parted finally from their kiss, laughter surged jubilantly from the archer lips. His heart sang with happiness and happiness he knew beat in tandem with his wife's.

Bending low he scooped his son up and held him in his free arm between him and his wife. Regina as his wife, their realms safe, his son hale and happy and glad, what else could a man want in life?

Silently looking on, love shimmered in clear crystal in Regina's eyes as she stared at the two. A soft smile wondrously bloomed upon her lips as the entire moment filled her. Robin as her husband, Roland as her son, she could think of no greater fate.

She did not need magic or revenge to make her happy. What would make her happy stood right before her and in the snowy glade. All it had taken was a chance with a roguish outlaw and a bleak fate to see that life and love could bloom in even the most dour of circumstances and thrive in the most obfuscate of places.

No more did she need prestige or power to fill in the cracks ridged along her heart. Long ago her might had only brought her misery, and now she could only rejoice of how she had fallen for when she had fallen she had shattered and when she had shattered an insufferable Backwoodsman had found the woman that had so long laid trapped inside.

**~8~8~**

_A/n : First full length Regina story. I loved, loved, loved writing Regina and Robin and especially Roland. I wasn't really an passionate Evil Regal before but just writing her has made me one now. Once again, thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, favorited and put this story on alert. I hope you had as much fun reading as I did writing the ever awesome evil queen. You guys are the best!_

_P.s Unless bunnies strike me down, I do expect to- try- to work on Mastery of Magic. Just… sometime. :3_


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